Summers' Twilight
by DarKade
Summary: Expelled from Hemry High, her boyfriend in jail and her mother convinced she is a deeply troubled delinquent, Buffy Summers takes the last option given to her- return to the desolate town of Forks to live with her biological father, Police Chief Charlie Swan. But an encounter with The Cullens makes Buffy question more than her reality.
1. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

I'd never given much thought to how I would die. I mean, depressing much? Seriously, you could give yourself an aneurysm worrying about how you were gonna die. Which... would answer that question, I guess.

There was a time, at the height of my delusion, that I was utterly convinced vampires where going to kill me. That I was The Slayer. The one girl in all the world who could defeat the vampires.

The irony of it all isn't lost on me.

Now I stare across the room into dark empty eyes. Eyes that reflect me. The eyes of a hunter. Her lip twists in a sick parody of a smile.

Oh crap.

The hunter smiled in that friendly way as she sauntered forward to kill me.

...

**Notes from The Author:**

In this dark romantic adventure, I simply swap out Bella with Buffy. But this simple switch takes us on a different rollercoaster, as Bella is a passive character- whereas Buffy is active.

I find Twilight to be a compelling setting to explore Buffy from after the revelations of the episode **Normal Again**.

The Buffy of this alternate universe faces struggles of mental health, family, sexuality and ultimately her identity.

Content Warnings:

Mental illnesses (real conditions and descriptions of real institutions are covered using my own personal experiences. I treat it kindly). Graphic Sexual imagery and sex scenes. Violence. Blood. Horror. Girls who like girls. Some bad language (mostly Norwegian).

I hope you like this story, I had the indignation of having a hipster girl judge me hard for buying the full Twilight series from her trendy little store just so I could write it. You're welcome.

**Twilight Notes:**

To tell this story I have combined character or removed them for brevity. We will not be meeting Jasper, Eric or Angela, for example. This allows me to flesh out the more pencilled-in characters such as Jessica Stanley.

I have used Stephanie's writing as a basis for the first few chapters, but as you will see, Buffy is not Bella, so her inner voice and actions greatly shape the story.

**Buffy notes:**

This takes place after the events of the original Buffy film (Taken from the original script before Donald Sutherland fucked with it) and early in the events mentioned in **Normal Again**. This is Buffy is portrayed by the wonderful Sarah Michelle Gellar. She gets to have her natural brown hair color in this.

Knowledge of the film is not needed to enjoy this.

**Usual Fanfiction disclaimer**: This work is a fan fiction. I do not own Buffy or Twilight and am making no money from this work. I am just telling gay ghost stories for the fun of it.

Song Lyrics taken from the Twilight and Buffy soundtracks. Please support these artists, buy the songs and listen along.


	2. Tabula Rasa

Chapter 1

Tabula Rasa

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, under a seemingly constant cover of cloud, sits a small town named Forks.

The only thing remarkable about it is that it rains more than any other place in America.

It was from this damp, gloomy town that my mother, Joyce, escaped with a five year old me to her dream life in California. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was thirteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California instead. It was to Forks that I was now exiled, fresh from the flaming wreckage that was my life. And how literal that was; burning down the Gym at Hemry High had been the final chapter of my decline.

Even after months in that clinic, I swear I could still smell the faint trace of gasoline, blood and ash under my fingernails. No amount of scrubbing with the ward's eye stinging pink pump soap, that doubled as shampoo, seemed to remove it.

I guess it had all started with the nightmares, months of my own personal video nasties on endless loop. I would dream I was other girls, in other times. Each dream I was fighting for my life, fighting _them_ and each would end in me waking, screaming till my throat bled. I was exhausted, withdrawn, which was concern enough for my mom, and her second husband Hank, but at some point the walls between my dreams and waking life came a tumblin'. I thought Merrick was real. I thought _they_ were real. And I acted upon it.

I loved California. I loved the sun. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city. The malls. Oh god, I loved the malls.

"Buffy, sweety, you don't have to do this." mom said to me as I stood to board the plane. _Don't have to do this? Yeah, right._

As much as I hate Forks, the best mental health clinic Hank Summers could afford was a far worse sitch. Husband numero dos meant well, but his solution was usually to throw money at a problem and then vacation hard in the opposite direction. Which would leave me rotting out my days in high obs again, learning every detail of every stain and every mark in a haze of detergent air and chemical sleep.

"I know Mom. But hey, it will be good for me. Fresh air. Time to sort things out... you know...up here." I tap the side of my skull.

"Tell Charlie I said hi."

"Tell Hank I said bye."

"I'll see you soon," she said as I walked away. "We love you honey. You can come home whenever you want."

"Don't worry about me Mom," I smiled. "It'll be great. This is me, moving forward."

Summers women. All of us terrible liars.

...

Charlie had seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him. It was the most emotional I had ever heard him get; I swear he almost cracked a smile.

I managed to bury myself in the glorious world of literature for the flights. I covered the classics, of course; both style and gossip magazines, so the flying part of the trip flew by. But what I was really dreading was the awkward hour-long drive from Port Angeles to Forks. My conversational skills and bubbly sense of humor? Well, they sure didn't come from Charlie. It was gonna be hella painful.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen – just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This little cherry on the cake I had been prepared for. You see, Charlie is known in these parts as Police Chief Swan.

"It's good to see you, Buff" he said and gave me an awkward, one-armed hug. "You haven't changed much. How's Joyce?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too... Dad." I tacked the latter on, remembering how it upset him if I called him Charlie to his face.

I only had two bags. Kissing my extensive wardrobe goodbye was one of the happy joy-joys of this whole fun ride. Still, it was all far too permeable for Washington. I had to face facts, and those facts fit in a grand total of two designer suitcases.

"I found a good car for you." he announced when we were strapped in. "Really cheap".

"What kind of car?" I was rightfully suspicious.

"Well, it's a truck actually. A Chevy."

"Oh." I said, and smiled weakly. "Sorry, that came out rude. Thanks. I'm just tired from the flight. Chevy huh? An all American classic. I am sure it will be great dad."

"Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

"Oh, yeah. Fishing guy. About yaaaaaay tall?" I reach for the roof.

"More yay tall now. He's in a wheelchair these days," Charlie continued, "and since he can't drive anymore, he offered to sell me his truck cheap. Billy's done a lot of work on the engine – it's only a few years old, really. Well... Sixties, early Seventies maybe."

"Charl –uhh, Dad, like, I don't really know much about cars. Not much at all. Or, anything, if fact. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong."

"Really, Buffy, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore." Probably for good reason.

"So when do we take a look?".

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression.

"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car as step one in the carefully planned out twelve step 'Buffy gets her life back together' program. But, free? Me likey. seriously. Thanks."

"I want you to be happy here." he said, looking ahead at the road. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. Again, I am not my father's daughter there. I wanna say that 'being happy' and 'being in Forks' are two unmixy concepts, but instead I settle for-

"Thanks Dad. I mean it. All with the appreciation here." His lip twitched.

He didn't need to suffer conversation long with me. For the rest of the trip I pretty much stared out the windows in silence. It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. In stark contrast to California, everything here was the richest of greens. I mean, seriously green. You have no idea. The trees are dense and vibrant, their knotted trunks thick with moss. Ferns. More ferns. Mondo Greenage. Ooh, another fern.

You like green? Forks has you covered.

I was grateful Charlie never brought up the reason I was here. He never mentioned my arrest, the clinic or the boyfriend (who may or may not be real, arrested or dead). It was actually kind of a pleasant feeling. Like instead of me needing to rewrite the bad book that is my life, this was going to be a fresh story.

Charlie still lived in the pokey two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had – the early ones.

As we pull in, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, my glorious "new" truck waited for me. It was a faded red color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I freaking loved it.

"Wow, Dad, this is... again with the wow. This is actually awesome!". It was one of those solid metal affairs that never gets damaged – the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed. I bet you could mow down a whole mess of…

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said, nodding awkwardly. I gave the bonnet a loving pat, enjoying its solidity under my palm. Solidity is what I needed right now. Unshakable, real.

Unsurprisingly, Charlie had set me up in my old room. I mean, it had belonged to me since I was born after all. It was familiar. The uneven wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the window – this all was my world until I was five. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner. It became a throne for Mr. Gordo again. I left my stuffed plush pig to quietly reign over the room once more.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact. He probably was too, judging by the two shelves he had put in especially for all my 'girl stuff'.

One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for my mother. It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven – now fifty-eight – students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together – their grandparents had been toddlers together. I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. But hey, I was used to that already. After all, that is exactly what I was. By the time I was expelled, all my friends had turned their backs on me.

I didn't sleep well that night, but that wasn't a surprise to me. I was pretty much nocturnal anyway, my delusions had made me a creature of the night. Truth me told, I felt that pull still; the call to the hunt. If I ignored it, I knew the nightmares would come and parade the lineage of girls dying that lead to me. So I stayed awake for the most part. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background, and I imagined myself out there, running among the trees, hunting my prey. Maybe I shouldn't entertain those ideas, but they had been my truth for months, it was hard to let them go so easily.

I pulled the faded old quilt over my head, and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle.

...

The morning brought with it a thick fog that seemed to somehow reach into my bones. I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; four grey walls. It was like a tomb.

I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. The blonde was hopelessly grown out by this stage. My stay in the ward had left me no access to a decent hairdressers, and afterwards I was far too depressed to go out. Mom kept the scissors away from me, something Charlie clearly had no concern over. When I stayed over the summer years ago, he would unload the bullets from his gun when he got home. He clearly had no concern with me hurting myself. It was a nice change.

I lifted the scissors and went to work. It felt a weight lifting from me as the strands fell to the floor. Once I was done, a pale brunette with a choppy pixie cut stared back at me from under thick dark brows. Goodbye Californian dream girl. Hello pasty white brunette small town delinquent.

It was time to see what Forks had in store for me.


	3. Elizabeth Swan

Chapter 2

Elizabeth Swan

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He didn't register my new look, which didn't surprise me in the least, but he did wish me good luck at school. I thanked him and watched him drive away to the police station that was his real family.

I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three un-matching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing had changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some art into the house. There where flecks of paint on the kitchen floor and on one of the chairs where she would set up a makeshift easel to pass her days. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year's.

It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over mom. I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore.

I donned my black jacket – which felt like clambering into a bio-hazard suit – locked up, hid the key back in the eaves and headed out into the rain.

The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. It was a strange thing to miss, the normal crunch of gravel as I walked, but- uhg, Forks. I live in Forks now.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. The patter of the rain on tin soothing. I let out a breath and took in the sights of the cab. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. Quite satisfyingly, the engine immediately roared to life as I turned the key. It sat idling at top volume. The radio was shot, but that didn't bother me much, because Forks radio played both kinds of music- country and worse country.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. Like most other things, it was just off the highway. It looked like a collection of matching houses nestled in the trees, but the signpost was very yell-y. I pulled into the car park and killed the engine, feeling strangely confident that it would roar to life later. It was my good boy. I gave him a pat.

I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges following the signs to the front office. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses.

"Can I help you?"

"Buffy. Summers." I said and nodded. "Is... me. Hi."

"Of course, pleased to meet you... er... Summers… Summers." she said. I watched as she dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk.

"Oh, you probably have me as Elizabeth."

"No... I don't have anyone here as... lemme keep looking."

I caught on. Charlie probably didn't do it on purpose. Probably.

"Try under Swan." I say, and immediately her brow shoots up. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Police Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.

Hopefully not the little bit about me being a mentally unstable pyromaniac delinquent prone to violence. I suddenly felt dressed for the part. I shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Oh, you're Elizabeth Swan."

"Everyone calls me Buffy. Short for... Elizabeth. S'very Californian I guess."

"And very much your mother, I must say. Pleased to meet you... Buffy." she smiles warmly, and I detect the hint of sympathy. Oh. Word spreads like a gym fire. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me, "here is the best routes to each class. Have your teachers sign this, and bring it all back at the end of the day. Okay hun?" I nod.

"Well, I hope you feel at home in no time." I smiled back as convincingly as I could.

I went back outside to wait. Other students were starting to arrive. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out.

I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers.

Building three was cunningly disguised, but the large black "3" painted on a white square on the wall kinda gave it away, the little scamp. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two raincoats inside.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name – not an encouraging response – and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. Brontë, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I had enough of dead guys, but Brontë looked okay. The teacher droned on until a strangled sounding bell rang.

"You're Elizabeth Swan, aren't you?" A male voice said. The owner, a sandy blonde boy who, had he been at Hemry, would be well on his way to head jock status.

"Buffy," I corrected. "is... me." Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me. "No one calls me Elizabeth."

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I had to check in my bag. "Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way... I'm Mike," he added.

I smiled tentatively. "Buffy. Uh, which I... already... Thanks. Mike."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. Jeesh, paranoid much Buff?

"So, this is a lot different than California, huh?" he asked.

"Very."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

"What's this rain of which you speak?"

"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.

"Sunny." I told him.

"You don't look very tan."

"I'm a night owl."

"Not much nightlife in Forks, I'm afraid."

"Well, I am all about change of pace these days."

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Mike walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful. Obvious much? I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself.

"Hi, I'm Elizabeth Summers, well, Swan. But everyone calls me Buffy. So Buffy, er Swan. I guess. Now. Buffy Swan." I look desperately at Mr. Varner, but he must have a sick twisted streak and he gestured for me to go on. "So yeah. Just moved back here from California. Uh, guess you know my dad. Not... that I am saying you are trouble or anything... just... oh god can I please stop talking now?"

He nodded and I fled to my seat and tried hiding behind my all-to-short hair.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just put my foot firmly in my mouth and spent the rest of the day running the awkward conversations over and over in my head.

Her name was Jessica Stanley, and I recognized her a fraction of a second before she did me. My instinct to duck away and hide confounded, I allowed myself to be drawn into a rather excited hug.

Jessica was tiny, with wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. She had a bird-like quality, and I would describe her face as having small eyes, thin lips and a sharp nose. I know that sounds mean, but actually it all worked together in an alluring way. She was one makeover away from jaw dropping gorgeous. Of course, our last encounter had been during one of my summer vacations. We struck up a fast friendship, which failed to translate into pen pals as promised. I guess I still felt awkward as to how it hand ended.

"Heard you were coming back." She said with her birdy little grin.

"Few escape Forks." You say. "It sucks. Like a black hole."

"Well, it sucks a little less now that you are back." She said, and linked her arm with mine. "I would be honored to introduce you around."

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends. As promised, she introduced them. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from English, Mike, joined the table shortly after. They talked about this and that, and I felt my mind wandering. It wandered far. Real far. It was in Cuernavaca in no time. But I smiled and nodded and tried to ignore the stares I was getting from the room.

Once upon a time I was social. I was good at social. But I haven't been that girl in a long time. Getting a good night's sleep was clearly high on my twelve step adulting list. Maybe I should actually start taking the quetiapine instead of flushing it.

"You okay?" Jessica whispered.

"Just... cramps. S'nothing." Jessica frowned sympathetically and went back to listening to Mike bragging about, I dunno, something sports ball-y. That's when I felt the sensation behind me.

It was like a live wire had sparked me back to awareness. Time shifted, as it always does when my body was readying me for a fight. The room came into sharp focus. I could feel my nails biting the flesh of my palms. I breathed like Merrick had taught me. Let the rush roll over me, ready to seize it, make it do my bidding.

What am I doing? Vampires are not real. Merrick never existed. I am just in a stressful situation. I am just having a regular panic attack.

I tell myself that if I look up now, I won't see them. That I don't need to look up. That I shouldn't.

I looked up.


	4. The Cullens

Chapter 3

The Cullens

There were four of them. Two boys and two girls. They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. They weren't talking, and unlike pretty much everyone else here, they weren't gawking at me. Their food was untouched on their trays. Of the two boys, one was big – muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. The other, leaner, byronesque with copper brown hair. He reminded me of Pike, down to his retro greaser vibe and casual lean.

The girls were polar opposites to each other. The first was blonde and tall, no, statuesque, like an airbrushed goddess stepping out from a magazine cover. Her clothes expensive, tasteful, sharp. Not a golden hair out of place. She just didn't seem real. Maybe she wasn't. I wanted to turn to Jessica and ask her about the four, but the idea filled me with dread. What if they weren't real?

_What if they were?_

"Yeah, that's Rosalie Hale." Jessica whispered to me. I let out my breath. "It just punches me right in the self-esteem any time she steps in the room. I mean... look at her."

The second girl was an imp of a girl, with a jet black bobbed hair and the cutest little flick of a nose. Her clothes where equally expensive and equally out of place, but she favored grey wools and finger-less gloves in a forest witch style.

"Who's Miss Manic Pixie Dream Girl?"

"That's Alice Cullen. And the other two are her brothers Emmet and Edward."

Every one of them was ghost pale. That said, in this town pastey was the go-to look. But their skin had an unnatural, marble like quality. Each of the four had purplish, bruise-like shadows under their eyes. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, but to be honest I probably had the same look for the same reason.

No. Vampires where not real. But in the world that my mind had created, this is exactly how they had looked. My body ignored reason, of course, and it screamed at me for action; for violence.

They were all looking away – away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, Alice rose with her tray – unopened soda, unbitten apple – and without word walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, following her with my gaze. She dumped her tray and glided through the back door.

"They all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy with the copper brown hair, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other two still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them.

Strange, unpopular names, I thought. Grandparent-like names was usually a biiiig ole check in the 'fangs' box, but even still, this is Forks after all; Small town names? I was glad I escaped with Elizabeth and not wound up with something seriously heinous like Edythe.

"They are… very nice-looking." _And how._

"Aren't they?" Jessica agreed with a sigh. "But don't bother. They're all together. Together-together. – Emmett and Rosalie. Edward and Alice, I mean. And they live together and are... you know..."

"Together?" I added helpfully. Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Cali, it would cause gossip.

"They don't look related…."

"Oh, they're not. They're all foster children. Rosalie is eighteen, she has been with Dr. Cullen since they she was eight. She's their aunt or something like that." I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor for some reason.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

Two years, six vamps- as sucky at math as I was, that didn't add up. With that many vamps, the body count would be through the roof for a small town. _Listen to the facts Buffy, don't let it win again. They can't be vampires._

As I examined them, the youngest boy looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is -fest ?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today – he had a slightly frustrated expression.

"That's Edward. Yeah, I know, a real honey. Remind me never to tell you the time he shot me down in flames. There was much Celine Dion tearily sung into my hairbrush that week, I can tell you. Rumor has it he is with Alice." she sighed. "If true, what has she got that I don't?"

After a few more minutes, the three of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful – even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again. I breathed a sigh of relief. No one seemed aware of the danger they were in. Or possible danger. I tried to relax but my body had other ideas. I settled with drumming my fingers on my leg.

"Do you need any help finding your next class?" Mike said, appearing next to me. He reached for my book bag, a polite gesture no doubt, but I instinctively snatched it up.

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer – he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. I had to admit, he was the nicest person I'd met today. Well, Jessica was too, I guess, but there was uncomfortable history there. I felt suddenly bad for my behavior, and vowed to be warmer to her next I saw her.

"Okay, well, this is you. Been really great talking to you Buffy."

I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and certainly his looks were in the vague direction of the great, but still, I was fresh from kinda sorta starting something with Pike- if he existed at all. And that whole thing still shook me. Either way, I would never see Pike again.

Misery loves company, so another depressing thought struck me. Was the reason I was walking around free due to being a Police Chief's daughter? I did seem to get away lightly, all things considered. The cops probably tried to pin it all on Pike, and him being the knight in shining armor type, he would have fallen on his sword to save me. I felt sick to my stomach. For the first time I found myself actually hoping he really was a figment of my imagination.

Poor Pike.

When we entered the classroom, Jessica went to sit at a black topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I approached, he suddenly went rigid. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face – it was hostile, furious. I matched the glare with my best unblinking death stare.

Yep. His eyes were black – coal black. Weird. I had expected the tell tale red iris. Frustration crept over me, my stare got a little more amped up.

Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along.

"Say Mr. Banner, you wouldn't happen to have a pencil I could borrow?" I said, keeping my eyes locked on Edward.

"Of course Miss Swan, here, take two."

"Oooh, front and back. Neato. Thanks Mr. Banner."

I set my book on the table and slowly slid into my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. I wondered if he could somehow smell The Slayer on me. It was wigsome, but with a pencil firmly grasped in my fist under the table, I knew I would be ready if he made a move. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother.

The class seemed to drag on for an eternity, with the both of us sitting still, our bodies locked rigid. The distance between us felt charged and ready to ignite. I tried to focus on the teacher, but my attention was on the boy beside me. But when I looked back, he was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. I felt on the verge of action, of letting my instincts take over and bring my left arm, clutching the pencil in a white knuckle grip, deep into his heart. Every instinct told me to. But my mind whirled about in a haze of doubt. Vampires are not real. Vampires are not real. I say this over and over and it still my hand. But Edward isn't breathing, not that I can tell. And that revelation started to eat at my doubts. He was so close. He wouldn't have time to react. I just had to- so I adjusted my grip and-

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose – he was much taller than I'd thought – his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, gasping for air, staring in horror at the pencil in my hand.

* * *

I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.

When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.

Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with her in a low, admittedly very attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time – any other time.

Yeah. This was about me. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me. He had to know I what I was. Didn't he?

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me – his face was absurdly handsome – with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help."

And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.

I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.

"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.

"Peachy with a side of keen." I smiled, possibly a bit too brightly. She didn't look convinced, but then again, she probably didn't understand a word of what I said.


	5. Esme

Chapter 4

Esme

That morning I confirmed what I had suspected. There was no real food in the refrigerator. Charlie existed on take out and frozen meals. If I had to suffer making positive changes to my life, he damned well had to suffer with me. I felt a home cooked meal would be a good start. Maybe I was apologizing for something. I don't know.

So, I pointed my truck towards town, which, unsurprisingly was exactly how I remembered it from three years ago. The main part of the town was nestled around a steep main road that zig-zagged down from the motorway to the bay. The clouds boiled grey overhead, and I could see heavier rain clouds crawling in from a distance across the lake. It was too small a town in too big a world. I couldn't imagine ever feeling at home here.

I wasn't a good cook by any stretch of the imagination, so I kept to the basics. I stopped into the butchers for some steaks, and hit the tiny supermarket for bread, eggs, seasonings and, enough fresh fruit and vegetables to get Charlie underway.

Whilst I was in line, I caught myself glaring at a girl on the cover of a fashion magazine. She had golden hair and a tan. A woman behind me 'ahem-ed' me, and I realized I had been staring blankly at the picture for a while. I shook myself back to reality, apologized and, rather embarrassed, moved on down the line.

Charlie arrived shortly after I had started dinner, and after a brief look of confusion, he took off his jacket, collected a beer from the refrigerator and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Esme Cullen dropped by the station today. Said she had a patient cancel, so she could move you up to Saturday afternoon. Hope you don't mind, but I took her up on it."

"That's fine, I guess. I don't have plans." I said and returned to mashing butter into the potatoes. "Probably for the best. Sooner you get my head shrunk the better."

Charlie nodded. "So, you been feeling okay today?"

"Yeah." I said, plating up our meal. "Well, first day at school nerves, but yeah. I was okay."

"So Dad. This Esme Cullen? Is she the same Cullen with the four foster kids?" Charlie looks up at me from the newspaper with a curious look.

"Heard the rumors huh?"

"Rumors? What kind of rumors?"

"Ignore them. It's just small town folk nonsense. Out of towners is all. Esme and Carlisle are good people. Both big city doctors, top of their fields, could work anywhere. Both have done a lot for this town.".

"So Doctor. Like in, medical doctor? With patients and blood and stuff."

"Well, Esme is a psychiatrist. Carlisle, her husband, he is that kind of doctor. Patched me up a few times himself."

I place the plates down in front of us. A good old family dinner to get things started.

"This looks real good Buffy."

"Yeah, I hardly burnt anything at all." I said and smiled. "Unlike that gym."

He doesn't look up, just calmly sets about eating. I looked at the meal I had so carefully prepared and didn't feel like eating it at all.

"Meet any boys?"

"Uh... oooh, yeah, one. Mike."

"Newton?" he says. I nodded as I chewed. "Good kid. Good family."

"I'm glad you give your blessing because I am already carrying his lovechild." I quip.

Charlie shakes his head and, heavens, is that an actual smile! He goes back to reading the paper.

The phone rang. It was the station calling.

"I'm sorry to do this on our first night, but something real bad has happened. I have to go in." I nodded, and cleared the plates as he strapped on his gun belt and jacket, and headed out into the night. Part of me ached to go with him. Perhaps that was my destiny now. Follow in my father's footsteps. I tried to picture how I would look in the uniform.

I covered my plate in plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator. As I washed up, my mind kept slipping back to think of The Cullens. It built to where it was like a maelstrom inside my head where facts and instincts clashed.

I knew from grim experience I couldn't sleep when my mind got like this. So I snatched up my keys to the truck from the bowl, grabbed my coat and made my way outside. The rain had given away to a mist, and the sun was dipping low, giving the air a sinister red tinge. I got in the cab, and sat thinking about what I was about to do. What would happen to me if I was caught? Would it be Charlie himself who arrested me? Red faced with shame and disappointment over his wayward daughter showing him up in front of his beloved town?

But my mind kept pulling back to the Cullens. Alice gliding across the room. The unbitten apple. The look of hatred in Edward's eyes. I could feel the pull into the night. I had to do something.

I turned the key and pulled out into the street.

I had to.

Breaking into the school office was easy. I guess with such a quiet town, security wasn't that big an issue. The filing cabinets didn't even have a lock. I quickly found the Cullen's files and spread them out on the desk. Jessica had been right, they had traveled from Alaska two years prior. They all had excellent grades, not straight 'A's but not far off. No reports of menacing behavior or violence. I found school records going back before they moved here. Rosalie Hale had attended different schools to The Cullens, which made sense because she was fostered in. The paperwork seemed aged correctly, the handwriting different. As far as I could tell, everything was legitimate. I stuffed everything back into the files with a growl of frustration.

Common sense told me there was no reason for vampires to go to all that trouble just to go to school. That four vampires would have eaten their way through the entire class in two years. I felt sick to my stomach as an image of Edward Cullen, eyes filled with horror, looked down at a pencil rammed into his body. I pictured blood, where there should be fire and ash.

I slumped down on the chair and felt the tears begin to rise.

Charlie still wasn't home when I returned back to his house. I still didn't feel like eating, so I just went up to my room and sat on the bed, holding Mr. Gordo for comfort. I was being paranoid. I was sick, and I had to admit it. But doing so would mean I would finally have to put to rest Buffy Summers: The Vampire Slayer. It would mean I would have to live in the cold hard world that was Buffy Swan, the troubled daughter of the police chief of a nowhere town.

As I drifted off to an uneasy sleep, I kept looking up at my window, expecting to see someone watching me.

...

Stepping into Dr. Esme Cullen's practice was like going through a magical portal from Forks back to actual civilization.

I arrived a little early, and gave my name to the receptionist as Elizabeth Swan, and took a seat. The waiting room was of a modern minimalist style, a perfect cube, with one glass wall that opened up into little zen garden with a feature wall of dark, craggy stone. Water babbling peacefully through the grooves and channels of the wall. I picked up a magazine instinctively, but found myself transfixed by the tickling streams, watching the tiny bubbles as they made their way down. It was mesmerizing.

Esme Cullen had that quality about her too. Like her foster children, she was breathtaking to behold. Striking honey colored eyes, that fell on me in a kindly way. She seemed only in her late twenties. But there was something mature and motherly about her. She smiled and gracefully extended a hand, welcoming me into her office.

"Hello Buffy. I am Esme. Do come in." She said. I approached, cautiously. "Thank you for coming to see me today. Please, sit anywhere you feel comfortable."

"You got my name right." I said, picking a chair nearest the door. "No one around does."

"Well, Doctor Warren sent me through your files, and I had a chat with your father too. Do you still prefer 'Buffy'?"

"Yeah. Yes." I said "So, I guess you know a lot about me, then."

"Not at all. You can't really know someone from reading a file. I was hoping we could start getting to know each other today, if that's okay with you."

"What's to know? I'm schizophrenic." I said with a shrug.

"That's a diagnosis, not a person. Do you feel like just a diagnosis?" I shrugged again.

"You know, schizophrenia is really only diagnosed after six months of continued symptoms. According to your file, that isn't the case. Do you know what schizophreniform means?"

I shook my head.

"It's when something presents like schizophrenia, but the symptoms only last for a period of time and then go away."

"Like, forever?"

"Sometimes." she smiles. "So you see, I think it's a little early to resign yourself to a label. Don't you? But I want to know your side of the story. About Buffy. Would that be okay?"

As Esme spoke, I felt a strange calm come over me. I guess it was from the soothing babble of the feature wall; Esme's office also had a window that gave a clear view. I tried to turn my head to look at it, however, the golden warmth of Esme's eyes kept pulling back. They where completely without judgement, something I hadn't experienced in a while, and I needed it like air or water. I felt sharply jealous that mom no longer looked at me that way. That all I saw in her eyes was her unease at being around me.

"So Buffy, where would you like to start? Tell me your story."

...

That night, the rain was back; heavy and constant. I sat on my bed staring at the bottle of pills. Turning it over and over in my hand.

Somehow, Esme knew I hadn't been taking them, but she didn't seem to be the least bit mad at me. I confessed to her my fears about the side effects. How I hated the way my head would jerk to the side when I got really upset. It made me worry about permanent tardive dyskinesia. She found it amusing that I had memorized that term from the warning pamphlets, but not amusing in a cruel way. Just that I had paid attention to the details, and she remarked, that showed her how bright a girl I was. I really feared spending the rest of my life with an uncontrollable twitch, or not being able to stop my tongue from darting out or my eyes blinking rapidly... I hated the idea. Not being in control of my body, as well as my mind.

Esme she showed me that my fear went deeper still. That what I really feared was reality itself. It was amazing how quickly she put things into perspective. I felt an order coming to my fears and thoughts as she listened. I felt things clicking, one by one, into place.

I thought about my behavior over last few days. I didn't tell her about the break in at the school, or my encounter with her son specifically, only in abstract terms. I spoke of 'a break-in', 'a boy'.

I popped the lid off the bottle with a resigned sigh, and put the pill into my mouth, holding it between my teeth.

This moment felt like a fork in the road of my life. A decision that would shape everything from the point forward. By swallowing the pill, I truly believed vampires did not exist and I was just a regular girl who needed help. By spitting it across the room, I truly believed all the horrors I experienced were real, that Lothos was real, Merrick and Pike were real, that vampires fed on the blood of the living and somehow, out of all the millions of girls in the entire world, I was The Chosen One, the only girl who could stop them.

It all sounded so silly, I know. It all felt so real. But I didn't want to feel anymore. I knew how I sounded.

I felt tears come as I made my choice. Esme, with her kind, golden eyes was right.

I swallowed the pill.


	6. Denial

Chapter 5

Denial

I slept a sound, dreamless sleep that night, waking around ten in a bit of a stupor. My limbs felt alien, heavy, relaxed. I guess this is what rested feels like. It had been so long I could barely remember. I dragged myself out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

Looking at the girl in the mirror felt surreal. Elizabeth "Buffy" Anne Summers/Swan of Forks. Not a vampire slayer, but not a diagnosis either. A beautiful sixteen year old with a few issues with her life ahead of her. A somewhat broken family. But safe. In a safe town at a safe school in a world without monsters. I brushed her teeth and neatened her hair.

It was weird how my inner voice all sounded like Esme's voice. I thought back to my time talking to her, but it was a bit of a blur now, like a dream.

The doorbell chime returned me to my senses. Charlie answered, and I immediately recognized the voice as Jessica's. I quickly made myself presentable and headed down stairs.

"Buffy, it's Jessica from up the hill. You remember Jessica?"

"Of course. Hey there."

"Sorry to drop by unannounced, but I mentioned you were back to mom, and she wanted to send you a little welcome present." Jessica lifted two white cardboard boxes by way of explanation. "Hope you like doughnuts."

"Never met a doughnut I didn't like." I smiled and took the offered box. Wow, it was still warm. Jessica is now my bestest buddy in the whole of Forks, if not the world. What? I'm shallow.

Jessica handed the second box to Charlie. "And this is for you Chief Swan. Strawberry jello- your usual."

"How about that, a cop who likes doughnuts. Who knew?" I deadpanned. "How 'bout we leave Char- dad to enjoy them without girl yammering ruining his sugar fix?"

I lead her up to my room. Jessica quickly made friends with Mr. Gordo, as I quickly made friends with the chocolate coated bear claw. It turns out Jessica's mom runs the cafe on main street. My small world was getting smaller by the day. Still, hot sugary goodness took some of the edge off.

I insisted Jessica share the box with me, and we sat cross legged on my bed making small talk. It was nice. She was quick with a joke too, and I enjoyed making her laugh. Her smile was simply beautiful.

"You should do that more." she said, licking sugar from her lips.

"Eat doughnuts? I agree."

"No. Laugh, dumb-ass. I haven't seen you do that since you came back. Not like you used to on summer break."

"Not much to smile about. Present company accepted, natch. But moving back here? It's... a big change. S'gonna take a while, I guess."

Jess shifted back against my head rest and chuckled. "Give it time." Our eyes met and we both blushed. It took me back to a memory of the last time we were together in this room. I think she was thinking the same, because her face was flushed. She giggled nervously and glanced away.

"Elephant in the room time?" I said, putting the box aside. Jessica put her hands to her face, groaned and peeked through her fingers.

"Do we have to? How good are you are letting things fester?"

"Oh, Olympic level. I was gonna go pro but my old war injury… you know how it is." I sighed, but then, I squared my shoulders and slapped my hands down on my crossed legs. "Look, I am tryna change- This coming back here thing is about Buffy growing as a person, facing up to some truths. So, let's do this, I say we summon Dumbo and kick his ass."

"If we must." she said.

We sat in silence for a moment, then laughed.

"This is dumb" she said. "Fine. I will go first. Do you regret what happened?"

"I regret how we handled it." I said honestly. "But we were, like 13, I think we can cut each other a little slack vis-a-vis maturity."

"Fair point."

"I mean, you freaked too. Afterwards." I said. She nodded and picked up Mr. Gordo once more, idly playing with his ear.

"I guess... the thing I was scared of at the time was it getting out. It's a small town."

"I noticed."

"So, where are you at now… with said elephant?"

"I think… we were young, comfortable with each other… just, you know, curious. These things happen." I said.

"So have you… been with anyone now?"

"I have had a few boyfriends. Not 'had' had, but, yeah."

"Yeah. Me too. I mean, I dated Eric for a bit. Not my finest moment." She looked around the room.

"I... don't regret it happened Jessica."

"Me either. So... what now?"

"All in favor of "pleasant, guilt free memory" followed by rekindled friendship, say "denial"."

"Denial." she said, raising her hand.

Our relieved laughter gave way to flushed faces and awkward glances. I offered her another doughnut as an ice breaker, which she took gladly.

…

So, I maybe, kinda, sorta thought of Jessica a bit as I masturbated that night. Don't judge me for that, everyone does it... and honestly I needed to sleep. An 'O' or two always helped. But even though she crept in my thoughts as I bit down my lip and tried to keep quiet, I knew I didn't like girls in _that_ way. I wasn't like that. I don't know, there was just something about Jessica that always just seemed to charge the room for me.

That night I took my pill again, and the sound of the rain lulled me into another dreamless sleep.


	7. Snow White

**Chapter 6**

**Snow White**

I awoke with that dull, heavy feeling again and laid in bed letting my mind float back together. I felt like watching milk slowly merge with coffee. My mouth was dry, so when I felt safe to stand, I made my way to the bathroom and drank a few glasses of water.

The Buffy in the mirror today looked… more. More of everything. More solid. More real. More pretty. More present. I didn't have words to explain the sensation. I set about brushing my teeth, feeling very grounded on my feet.

Esme wasn't until Saturday, a whole week away. I was rather excited by the prospect of seeing her again. I already felt changed. Maybe all my answers lay behind those warm, honey eyes.

People greeted me in the parking lot on Monday morning. I didn't know their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. I wondered how long it would be before he asked me on a date. I should probably be prepared for that. I wasn't really sure how I felt about the idea. It wasn't the Pike thing. Pike was one of the things that was firmly of the past. I had to start thinking about my present and future. Mike was a good looking guy, was sweet and keen. Certainly my type, I guess, but I just didn't have that spark for some reason. I decided that if he did ask me, to say I wasn't ready to date yet. Which was fairly true. I could barely function as a person at this stage. I hoped he would take it with grace when the time came.

We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights, and I kicked ass. All in all, I was feeling suddenly better about life in Forks, comfortable even. More than I ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks, my nose.

"Whoah," I said. "actual snow."

Mike look surprised. "Haven't you seen snow fall before?" he asked, rather sweetly.

"Sure." I said. "On TV."

A snowball struck Mike on the side of the face, the grey slush flying everywhere. He roared playfully, glancing at me with a grin, before running into the frey. A snowball fight, well, a slushball fight broke out. I found myself chuckling along, but keeping safely back.

A laugh rang out, musical and clear. My eyes settled on Alice Cullen, who was trying to avoid Emmet shaking his wet hair at her. Rosalie and Edward looked on, both equally soaked, as their little sister failed. Just a regular family enjoying the snow.

Alice's golden eyes met mine. She chuckled, but I looked away, my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self conscious, I reminded myself, I had done nothing wrong. I kept my head down and glanced up under my eyelashes. Alice was focused back on her brother's antics. A broad smile across her face.

It's weird how snow freshens everything. And the day felt fresh and new. Clean slate-y. I gazed on them with new eyes. Today I had biology. I would sit next to Edward Cullen again. This time, safe in the knowledge that he was just a regular boy. Well, a stunning, chiseled Adonis of a boy with some serious issues, but a human, teenage boy. Of this I was now certain. Whatever his problem with me was, it was his problem. I would under no circumstances stab a pencil into his chest. Nuh-uh.

Still, I felt a little nervous. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but I kept my focus on the textbook. See? This is me relaxed and ready to be educated.

"Hello", said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled- even so, he looked like he had just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his perfect lips. But his eyes seemed careful, his moves measured.

"My name is Edward Cullen." he continued, "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Buffy Swan."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had my mind made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now. Edward's skin was less pale than I had imagined. His cheeks a little rosy. The bruises under his eyes barely there. His eyes a deep butterscotch hue. He didn't look like a vampire to me now at all. And that's great. Because I know vampires are not real.

"You know my name?"

He laughed a soft enchanting laugh.

"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town has been waiting for you to arrive."

"I mean, you called me Buffy."

He seemed confused. "Do you prefer Elizabeth now?"

"No, I like Buffy. I said. "But I always thought Charlie- I mean, my dad- called me Elizabeth behind my back- that's what everyone seems to know me as."

"Alice said you preferred it." he smiled as if at a private joke.

Mr. Banner started the class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained what the lab would be doing today. I set about the work with a new found confidence, and my lab partner was every bit the gentleman. I felt happy for the first time in a long time.

Outside, the snow fell, covering the world in a soft, white blanket.

When the bell finally rang, Edward rushed swiftly and as gracefully away from the room as he had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in amazement.

Jessica skipped quickly to my side.

"You two seemed a might friendly today." she said teasingly. "I think that is the warmest I have ever seen Edward towards anyone. What is your secret? Did you drug him?"

"It was weird." you say, walking with her to put on your coats. "Last week I swear he hated me."

"I am not saying I am jealous or anything." she said smiling, "But I hate you, please die."

"I am not interested in Edward Cullen. Or anyone, for that matter." I said "Remember, Buffy firmly in the adjusting stage."

"What a waste of a golden haired opportunity!" Jess groaned.

The snow was still falling as we walked out into the parking lot and made our goodbyes standing by my truck. Jessica turned as she walked away and gave me a wink. A moment later, I heard a loud high pitched squeal.

I looked up, to see Alice Cullen standing about four cars down the line from me. She was standing- barely, clutching her head, as if in the throws of a migraine. A dark blue van was skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit Alice.

I didn't think, I just moved. An instant later I felt her body as I wrapped my arms around her, the squeal now deafening. I heard the crunch of the van folding around us, time seemed to slow down, the shimmering glass fragments crawling through the air around my head. I pulled the girl's head down, cradling her into my chest and turned.

At that moment, everything exploded into a field of white.


	8. Embrace

**Chapter 7**

**Embrace**

_-He started coming to me in my dreams first. I saw him over and over. His name was Lothos._

_-Lothos?_

_-Yeah. Lothos._

_-Tell me about Lothos._

_-Magnetic. Powerful. Good looking, I guess. Well, his eyes where sort of magnetic. I said 'magnetic' already, didn't I? Uh. He had a real psycho sidekick called Amilyn. Uh, it all sounds so silly, doesn't it?_

_-What was interacting with him like?_

_-Well, I slayed the hell out of him. So, I guess all in all in our relationship, I got the better end of the stick. Heh._ _Ahem_.

_-Go on Buffy._

…

My ears where whistling, and I became conscious of the taste of iron. _God, does it have to be so bright? What is that?_ I became aware of something cold and hard in my throat. I reached up to pull it free, but my arm doesn't respond. I tried with my other, and was immediately rewarded with a sharp stabbing pain. I was coughing now, retching. Panic rising.

Around me people where moving in a blur. Sharp noises cut into my skull, then pain. I tried to scream but whatever was in my throat prevented it, I could feel saliva and blood around it.

"Elizabeth, can you hear me? Just take regular breaths, in- out. In- out." an unfamiliar man's voice said.

Another voice said "she's crashing."

We passed under a bright light and everything returned to white again. And all the sensations, mercifully, ceased all at once.

…

"Buffy?" the voice came, sweet and soft. A girl's voice. Everything felt so bright only a moment before, but now all around me was darkness. A pale face came into focus.

"Alice." I croaked.

"They are coming. I am sorry. You have to make a choice now."

"I don't understand. Where am I?"

"Please, just listen. Time is short. They are coming. Don't say anything. Just decide. Which would you pick: Have all your suffering end right now, slip away painlessly, peacefully, or live forever in love, but in torment?"

"Please… I don't understand." I whispered.

"You don't need to. You already decided." the voice said. "I am sorry what is to happen now, but don't worry. I see you Buffy. So clearly now. You are amazing."

I feel cool lips at my throat, gentle, soothing lips. So familiar. Frozen, I held my breath. Right from the start, I knew what was happening. I have dreamt of this embrace a thousand times, as a thousand different girls. It is merely my turn. My heart beats faster and I tremble, not from fear, but expectation. I can feel my hand rise up to claw through short cropped hair, urging her closer. Waiting for her fangs.

…

Suddenly, there was no pain.

I could hear birds chirping in the trees. The hum of an air conditioner. A sound like snow being crushed underfoot as I shifted on the bed. And I knew I was on a bed, because I could somehow smell the linen, as clear as if I had my nose buried into it. I smelled varnished wood, and pine, tree bark and earthy, musty soil. And a scent that was somehow both sweet and savory that I could not place. But whatever it was, it somehow smelt like I belonged.

I opened my eyes slowly.

As I expected, I was laying on a hospital bed- one of those cool futuristic ones with the little control pads for adjusting it. The room was small, clean and neat, with polished wooden walls. Around me there where various pieces of medical equipment, some in plastic covers, all meticulously clean. One of the walls of the room had a door, which was currently closed. To my right, the wall was made entirely from glass, with a sliding door, slightly ajar. The view from the window was spectacular. A canopy of dark green trees that spread out across a valley. The sun was setting just out of my view, but it's magical golden light cast a spell, setting every drop of the mist glittering with an opalescence I had never seen before.

The door in front of me opened and Esme poked her head around the door. I felt instantly less confused, more serene. Esme was here and I was safe.

"Well, look who decided to wake up." she smiled, gracefully walking up to my bedside.

"Is this the part where you tell me I have been in a coma for, like twenty years or something?"

She chuckled melodically. "Oh Buffy, you are such a joy. I regret to inform you that it's only been three days since the accident. You are at my home, recovering in our private clinic. My husband Carlisle and I have been giving you some very special care."

"Wait. Did you say you have a private clinic?" I pull myself up to a seated position, quite painlessly. I am wearing loose natural cotton pajamas. I feel like a yoga instructor. Esme nods and it suddenly feels like the most natural thing in the world.

"Wait… Alice!"

"Alice is perfectly fine, thanks to you. Not a scratch on her. You saved her life, you know. Our precious girl. Consider all this a personal thank-you, from Carlisle and myself."

"Esme. Why do I feel so good? I mean, didn't a truck just like, totally pancake me?"

"Fortunately your momentum threw you both clear. But you took a pretty severe knock to the back of the head nonetheless. And the answer to your question is morphine." she wrinkled her nose and gave me a rather mischievous smile "Good isn't it?".

She brushed a few locks of my cropped hair back across my face, her cool touch so soothing I could almost purr.

"Charlie will be by in a couple of hours with some food. Why don't you get a little more sleep?"

It sounded to me like the greatest idea in the world.

* * *

When I wake next, Edward is sitting by my bedside, lost in a book. He seems genuinely startled that I am looking at him. Again, he seemed confused by this, and looks at me questioningly.

"I'm Buffy." I say. "Buuuuh-feeee. In case you forgot." Edward's flawless lips draw back into a beautiful smile. He seems about to say something when his head jerks to the door, as if someone called his name. A moment later, Alice Cullen pokes her head around the door.

"Buffy Swan, may I officially introduce you to my sister, Alice Cullen." Edward said, standing as she bounded gracefully over to me.

"I am so very pleased to finally meet you Buffy." she said, "you have no idea." Then with a little excited squeal, she pulls me into a huge embrace. Edward chuckles softly at my shocked expression. As she draws back, holding my shoulders to look at me, she beams the most brilliant, beautiful smile I have ever seen and says "Oh, you _do_ smell good."


	9. Ate

Chapter 8

Ate

I was sitting on the balcony just past the glass window enjoying the forest air when Charlie arrived. His expression flickered back and forth between nervous and relieved. Bless him, he was clutching a bag from the diner. I hadn't been conscious of being hungry at all before the delicious smell of meat hit me; I was ravenous now.

As I ate, Charlie perched on the edge of the wooden rail, despite there being two perfectly good (and banging stylish) chairs besides mine. Seriously, the house, from what little I could see from the clinic portion, at least, was straight out of one of those designer magazines. I ached to explore it more.

"So, you doing okay?"

"Mmfmfmg-sfffo gooofd" I swallowed my mouthful. "Yeah, really, really good. Remind me to pick more fights with trucks." His lipped twitched. Charlie Swan, as I live and breathe, I will make you laugh one of these days. I tore ferociously back into the poor, helpless burger again.

His awkward silence was getting to me, so I quickly turned the subject back to something where he felt comfortable)- his work.

"So much been happening in my absence? Something exciting? Big crime? Some high speed mailbox batting? Organised crime ring of clothesline jackings? I am not fussy, I will take Bigfoot sightings."

This seemed to have the opposite effect on Charlie as I had hoped. He cast his eyes out over the forests with a distant, worried look.

"Actually, yeah. Couple of folk were found dead past few days. Three now. Been happening since the night you got here. Looked like an animal attack. Wild dogs maybe. Wolves. Bears. Hard to say."

I stopped chewing. The food felt suddenly heavy in my gut.

"Actually, a whole lot of us are gonna sweep the woods first light tomorrow and see what we can flush out."

"That's … You are gonna be real careful?"

"Yeah, Buff. We got the whole department, a bunch of experienced hunters and a whole lot of the folk from the reserve. And I made sure Danny stays behind at the station- Kid couldn't hit a barn at ten paces, and I would be more worries about getting a bullet from him than whatever is out there."

I wanted to tell him to take a cross, a stake or something silver and stabby. The words stuck in my throat like my meal. I gulped back some of the soda.

"Just… be careful." I managed.

He nodded and looked back out at the forest. It seemed less relaxing to me now. I imagined myself flitting between the trees, blood coursing as I chased down my pr-

"Are… you feeling okay?"

"Actually Dad, maybe I am feeling a bit off. And it's late. You should probably head on back and get some sleep- what with your big day tomorrow and all."

"I guess you're right." he said. "It's good to see you in one piece Buffy. Rest up".

Charlie didn't hug me or anything, just gave me a little nod. As he was leaving, Esme arrived. He made his farewells and thanked her.

Esme took my invitation and sat down in the chair next to me.

"It's so peaceful out here tonight." She smiled, and I felt instantly at ease.

"It is. I would never leave if this was my home." I said.

"I am proud of it. I've put a lot of love into this house."

"Esme, I haven't had my medication for a few days, have I?"

"That's right. It would conflict with your painkillers. Why? Are you having any symptoms?" She said, her face filled with concern.

I shook my head. I didn't meet her gaze.

"Is there anything I can get you? Anything you want." She said. "Anything at all?"

As I looked out into the forest, the shadow of the mountains had started to crawl across it. "Thank-you, but… to be honest, I don't know what I want." I said, glancing up at her.

What was it about Esme that just made all my walls fall away? When she was around me, everything that was hard and heavy, felt easy, no burden at all. I fought the urge to hug her; curl up in her arms and just stay there till the pain bled away.

I wondered if that is how mothers should feel to be around. How distant Joyce was from me now, and to a degree, always. Joyce was a dreamer, an artist, a woman of abstracts and concepts, who dived right into the Californian art world with abandon. In the same way Charlie did police work. And there in the middle was me. I had ice skating and cheer leading and shopping- I guess I was burying myself too. We were all islands set apart in the ocean. I felt alone.

_One girl in all the world._

"Maybe," I said, as Esme rose, "Maybe Alice? Could she drop by and see me later?" I said.

Perhaps I imagined it, but for a moment Esme' smile faltered and her eyes looked sad. But the warmth returned and she nodded.

Alice Cullen moved kinda like liquid metal. Not in a terminator-y kinda way, but in a sort of... smooth, assured, inevitable flow. Somehow she maintained that quality when she skipped into my little room that night. Who skips past the age of six?

She slid out of her shoes, placed herself at the foot of the bed and drew her knees up to her chin.

"Hi." She said.

Her clothes where expensive and boy, super in style at the moment. Color me impressed. That's my current aesthetic, Pasty white and impressed.

To my surprise, I realized Alice was about the same height as me. My first impression of her was that she was much smaller. I had guessed barely five feet. Maybe it was her build that gave me that impression. I was always athletic, even after my appetite took a huge hit with my troubles, my muscles remained well defined and taut. Alice moved with the strength of a dancer, but without the bulk. It was a fascinating quality.

The comparisons went on. Whereas my hair was a dark chocolate color naturally, Alice's hair was jet black, which made her seem all the more pale. Today she looked very pale indeed, the faint bruising under her eyes was back. I felt strange- uneasy again in her presence. I wondered how long it would be before I could take my medication.

Alice tilted her head and glanced up at me from under her eyelashes. I realized I had not responded.

"Uh, hi. Sorry, bit of a space cadet. The drugs, I guess."

"How are you feeling otherwise?"

"Great. Esme said you weren't hurt at all."

"Nope." She said and that breathtaking grin was back and I found my breath hitching. Her teeth were perfect, just like Edwards. I guess the Cullens could afford the best dental care- the best of everything from the looks of the place. That ache to explore was back.

"Actually, I have been trying to think of ways to thank-you for what you did for me. Nothing really seems enough."

I blushed. I didn't feel like I deserved anything. Her life was in danger. I did what had to be done without a thought. I looked down.

"Maybe rescue me from this outfit. I feel like I should be running a cult or something in this."

Her eyes lit up.

"Clothes!" She said, and let out a little joyful gasp. "Oh Buffy! Come with me."

Her hand was the same size as mine, and they interlocked effortlessly. Her skin was velvety soft, yet the muscles underneath marble hard. Sure, she was cold to the touch as I had expected, but I guess she had just come from outside, so I tried not to feed that to my growing paranoia. I would have my pills soon enough. Everything was going to be okay again.

I was excited to see what lay beyond the clinic door. Especially now that included the giddy prospect that was decent clothes.

Alice giggled as she lead the way.

* * *

Author Notes:

I had time to go back and do an edit and partial rewrite and the whole story up til now- I don't have an editor or proof readers to lean on yet, and I usually write late at night. No significant reveals or story changes, but the prose should flow a bit better now and I spotted some typos.

In answer to one readers question, yes this is a supernatural story- it isn't a double bluff about a normal girl in a normal world with mental health issues- though that would be powerful, it would be a bit of a fuck-you... it isn't really what we come to fanfic for, is it? Have no fear, shit is gonna get spooky, smoochy and sexy real soon.

Comments are likes are like candy.


	10. Porcelain Doll

Chapter 9

Porcelain Doll

The corridor opened out to a large bright space, I guessed, three stories tall. There was a glorious spiral staircase as the main feature, a grand piano in one corner and the west wall had been removed and entirely replaced with glass. It offered a breathtaking view of the landscape. The property had extensive lawns, framed by cedars, that lead down to a lake.

Alice took both my hands and walked backwards, seemingly enjoying my reaction to the house. Her pull was barely there, more a gentle coax, allowing me to set the pace.

As we travelled up the giant staircase, Alice suddenly released one of my hands and pulled me behind her. She turned to look down towards the piano. Esme was standing next to it; I was surprised I had not noticed her before.

Esme seemed concerned, she stepped forward, her hand raised but hesitant, as if she was about to call out for us to stop. I guess that I shouldn't really be up and about yet.

When I turned back to Alice, her smile had fallen away, her look suddenly serious, defiant. She stood between myself and Esme in an almost protective way. The two held their glare for a few seconds, as if they were having a silent argument. If that was the case, Alice won, and Esme finally relented to her daughter. Eyes cast down, as if shamed, Esme turned and walked out.

Alice tugged on my hand and we began to ascend the stairs again.

"Am I gonna get you in trouble?" I asked.

"No." She said. "I can do that all by myself, thank-you very much."

The staircase led us to a long, wide hall, panelled in honey-colored wood. At the far end hung a large wooden crucifix, its dark patina contrasting with the lighter wall. The wood was aged, it looked hundreds of years old.

Alice paused to let me admire it.

"It looks ancient."

"Early sixteen-thirties, more or less." She smiled, "Don't be scared, here, feel." Her pale fingers gliding down the smooth wood. I touched lightly where she had, marvelling at the silken finish.

"This belonged to Carlisle's father. It used to hang in the vicarage where he preached."

Alice released my hand and took a few slow graceful steps back. She gently pushed open a door.

"This is my room." She said, her smile mischievous.

I swallowed, and entered.

Alice's room, like mine, opened out to the cedar forest, and I recognised the view. By my reckoning, her room was right above mine.

Alice's room was as open and airy as the rest of the house. It was painted in shades of off white with highly polished, dark wooden floorboards.

Two of the walls were lined with creme wardrobe doors. The third wall, through which we entered, was painted eggshell blue, and held a series of shelves which at a glance seemed to hold a host of curiosities- driftwood, bird skulls, seed pods, stones and books. In the corner by the window was an antique easel with a chair and a side table of art supplies. Behind that was one of those artist's filing drawers and a stylish creme chaise lounge. Near the wardrobes was a dresser and chair set, and in the corner, an array of three full length mirrors framed in honey colored wood. But something struck me as weird.

"No bed?" I asked, tentatively.

"Oh, this isn't my bedroom. This is my personal space. And more importantly…" she said, stepping to press on one of the white wall panels, "this is where I keep all my clothes."

The wardrobe doors whispered open and the blast of pure style caused me to die on the spot.

"Oh. My. Goddess." I gasped.

I must confess, my wardrobe back in California was absurdly extensive, but this? This was definitive.

Alice seemed inordinately proud and was clearly very happy of my appraisal.

"May I?" I said, and she enthusiastically gestured for me explore. She began to swiftly pluck garments from the racks.

"This is so you. Try this. Oh, and these." She passed me several items, pristine, if not brand new. "Oooh, and this." She rushed back and forth, holding up clothes, all of which where just… well… perfectly me- if a little darker and more subdued a palette than I was used to- however absolutely reflecting the environment of Forks.

"Alice, you have exquisite taste" I said, holding a dress to my body and looking in the mirror.

"Go on. Try it on. You know you want to." She said over her shoulder as she digged around in the wardrobe.

I realised then that I was her personal doll. And you know what? I didn't have a single problem with that at all. Nope. Not a one.

I stripped off my yoga mom top and slid the slate grey dress over my head. Dropping the pants as the silken fabric whispered over me. It fit perfectly. I smoothed it down and looked into the mirrors.

I noticed Alice's reflection. She was standing transfixed, her perfect lips twitching, as if she was stuck for words. I looked back at myself, trying to see what was wrong. Had I ruined the dress somehow? I blushed.

"Just… beautiful." She said, swallowing. She moved up behind me, gazing at my reflection over my shoulder. I felt suddenly vulnerable. A lamb next to a lion. I didn't belong in this dress, or this house. My body trembled lightly and there was the urge to run, but I was frozen to the spot.

Alice's hand moved to touch my arm, but she stopped, and it hovered an inch from my flesh. I felt goosebumps raise. She seemed mesmerized, not by the dress, but by my throat. Her tongue traced over her lips, and I felt mine do the same.

Suddenly, she jerked her head down and away, in the same manner Edward had- like she heard something. A calmness seamed to wash over her and she let out a breath which caressed my neck.

Alices hand lowered and she backed away from me. I was breathing heavily now, still unable to move.

"Shoes." She said, as if they were the last thing on her mind. "We need shoes to match. You look like my size." She walked to another wardrobe and opened the double doors.

The string of sounds that flew from my lips wasn't any language known to man, but it neatly expressed what I saw inside.

...

A few hours later I was back in my room, exhausted but positively glowing. I guess Esme was right to be concerned, because my body was aching and I felt dizzy.

The bed, sturdy as it was, felt like it was swaying like a ship on a calm ocean.

I knew sleep would take me soon, but I was eager to keep talking to Alice. She asked me to come shopping with her to Seattle as soon as I was well enough, and I agreed on the spot. I am only human, after all.

Alice has spoiled me rotten. my haul of clothes sat in the corner of my room in sizeable bag. I felt guilty of the excess she had showered on me- even at a rough estimate, the clothes where probably worth way more than Charlie made in a year.

Alice sat in the chair Edward was reading in before. She seemed loathe to leave my side.

"Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" I said.

"Of course." she said. "I'll be right here."

...

I was dreaming. Corridors of ancient, yellowed marble, curving around into darkness. I could hear distant screams echoing.

I saw a young woman dressed in a dark hooded cloak walking briskly, her boots clacking on the worn stone. Her face was round, framed with blond hair, and she reminded me of a porcelain doll. Her vibrant red pupils in her expressionless eyes told me what she really was.

The girl stops by a doorway where a man lurks, she tilts her head to listen to him.

"The Slayer is dead. Another called." the man's gravelly voice says.

"Where?"

"Boston."

"Make the arrangements."


	11. Linger

Chapter 10

Linger

A flash of lightning must have startled me awake, for a deep rolling rumble followed a moment after. Outside the window it was light, with clouds churning overhead, though no rain was falling yet.

The chair Alice had been in was empty, and I felt a pang of disappointment.

My bladder was full, so I carefully climbed down off the bed and made my way to the small bathroom in the adjoining corridor. I freshened up, and then raided my bag of goodies for an outfit. I paired the black faux leather leggings and a ridiculously soft grey turtleneck sweater. It was so luxurious against my skin. I buried my face into the wool and was rewarded with a lingering hint of Alice's delicious perfume. I couldn't identify it, but whatever it was, I wanted more.

As I drew in a deep breath of the intoxicating scent, I began to feel the first signs of arousal. My mind was playing back the moment from the night before where Alice stood behind me; I could picture the hunger in her golden eyes, the feel of her breath on my exposed neck.

What was I doing?

The Cullens had looked after me so graciously, and there was I having… wrong... thoughts about their daughter. My ears burned with embarrassment. This was Jessica's doing, damn her, she had been planting ideas in my head. Alice was just being friendly, and I was just really craving human contact. After all, I hadn't been close to any of my Hemry girlfriends since… well, since I started going crazy and they blanked me. It had been months since Jeffrey dumped me and Pike… well… Pike probably didn't even exist, right?

I felt ashamed for projecting all that onto Alice. I looked down at the outfit, feeling disgusted with myself. Maybe I should give Mike a shot after all.

I shook my head and rolled the turtleneck into place.

A dark column of rain was coming across the valley now. My thoughts turned to Charlie, out there with the hunting party. Three people mauled to death… probably torn to bloody shreds. I knew that was going to fester in the back of my head unless I investigated it myself.

There was a knock at the door. It was within arms reach, so I opened it.

"Good morning Buffy, I am glad to see you up and about" The man said with a warm smile. He was, I imagined, in his early 30s perhaps. Handsome in what I was starting to know as that classic Cullen style- like he had been chiselled from a whole block of yummy. This particular model had golden hair and was dressed in a crisp shirt and slacks.

"Doctor Cullen?" I said, a good 99% certain. He looked a perfect match for Esme.

"I am pleased to finally meet you, Ms. Swan. Conscious, that is. Please, call me Carlisle."

"Buffy." I said. "Thanks for sticking me back together."

"Thank-you for saving my daughter's life." He said sincerely. To his credit, Carlisle had a very sincere brand of sincerity.

He gestured to the bed. "If you don't mind I would like to give you a final examination."

I nodded my consent. He checked my eyes with a lamp-y thing, and my reflexes. I had to squeeze his fingers with both hands- that sort of thing. Judging by his curious expression, I feared I may have some lasting damage.

"Remarkable." He said, mostly to himself.

"So, do I pass the mustard?"

"You pass muster" he smiled, and wrote something onto a notepad. "Do you feel up to going home today?"

If I was honest, I never wanted to leave this place. Returning to Charlie's pokey little house was rather a depressing idea, however I did not want overstay my welcome. I already felt like a huge inconvenience. They had done so much for me already.

"Doct-uh- Carlisle, I know Esme said this wasn't going to cost Charlie anything-"

"And we meant it." He smiled. "You are worried about money? Don't be. Your father is a good man, and he has raised a good daughter. We are very grateful to you Buffy."

"Thank you." I said and smiled. But I still felt rather guilty. "Esme is wonderful too, she has really helped me deal with… you know." I pointed to my head.

"Actually I don't. Esme and I never discuss our patients. It would be a violation of your confidentiality and your trust. But whatever it is, I am glad you are finding her helpful." An earnest smile followed, and I detected a hint of pride in his wife. Which gave me the warm and fuzzies. Speaking of which...

"Is Alice here? I would like to say goodbye."

"I'm afraid not. She had to leave early on an errand. She said she will see you at school on Monday."

"Not giving me any time off from school huh?" I say. Carlisle laughs.

"Nice try. When you are ready, Esme said she will drive you back."

I had been looking forward to the ride back with Esme. I felt depressed returning to my normal world and Esme' warmth and loving nature always seemed to make all that just lift away. I knew it was probably not very healthy for me to attach to her in such a way- she was not my mother, regardless of my ache for her to mother me. She was my therapist, and the mother of my new friend.

But all that aside, Esme seemed troubled as she drove us through the winding forest roads. I felt an uneasy sensation start to take hold of me. I felt in danger.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, my voice coming out weakly. I noticed Esme's fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

"Not at all Buffy. You are a darling girl. You have done everything right." she turned to smile at me, but it felt forced. If I had to guess, she looked scared. "Everything expected of you."

"Are you okay?" I said. She laughed at this, and her face softened. She looked like she was fighting back tears. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Esme remained quiet for the final part of the trip. Finally she pulled the car in behind my old faithful truck. Charlie's house seemed alien to me now.

"So… this is me… I guess." I got out of the car. " Thank you for the ride, and everything. Doctor Cullen."

Esme gave me a smile, that fearful, sad look haunting her eyes again. I closed the door. She backed out into the road and drove away.

After her Mercedes was out of sight, I sloshed my way to the front door, lugging my bag and fumbled in the damp eaves for the key.

"Yep. This is me."


	12. Tall Glass of Water

Chapter 11

Tall Glass of Water

I knew I had the entire day to myself before Charlie would get back, and I felt restless at even just the idea of sitting around, mulling over the events of the past few days. Action girl, that's me. Plus, for once in a new moon, it was actually sunny. Forks looming, omnipresent cloud layer wasn't as omnipresent as it thought. Yay.

Of course, I am not saying there wasn't mulling to be had, but I restricted it to the drive into town, for my own sanity's sake.

I still had no clue as to how I could have possibly offended or upset Esme. I realised I felt an ache of loss from her warmth- I felt rejected.

I was starting to understand a part of what I was missing in my life, I wanted a family. But as I couldn't see how it was humanly possible to fix mine, I would have to make myself a family one day. I imagined a future me, married to the first local boy to get me knocked up, raising our child in Forks. I wondered if that was 'small town cop me'. Medicated, juggling work, a husband growing ever distant and a troubled daughter. Uhg. I needed distraction, so I flicked on the radio. Or tried at least. It was still broken.

Alice's gifts had highlighted my lack of wardrobe space, and since Charlie had paid for my truck, I had some money spare to invest in number whatever-the-hell-I-was-up-to in the Buffy Twelve Step Getting My Shit Together plan: fixing up my space.

I had set my sights on acquiring a garment rack, and a few things to make my room more… well… me. I knew this made the move feel more permanent, but I hated the feeling of being in limbo. If Forks was to be my path, then I would damn well tread it my way.

By the time I pulled into town I was ravenous again, so I made my first port of call the cafe that Jessica had said her mom owned.

As I entered, I heard a crash and the rattle of a bowl on the floor. Jessica rushed up, a stunned expression on her face.

"You're alive!" She said, "oh my god, Buffy, you are alive!"

"Aren't I usua-aah-" my comeback cut off with a huge hug. Jessica's hair smelt of coffee grinds and cheap hairspray.

"We all thought you were dead. I saw you… you… when the truck hit you… and all the blood, I thought you were dead. Noone has heard anything about you at School. I was so sure… " Another hug followed, rather tearful, on her part at least.

"Jessica, it's okay. I am okay. I am fine. Though? Air… becoming... an issue." She pulled back and looked me over once more.

"The Cullens looked after me at their clinic, I was out cold for a few days, but 'm good as new. Sparkly new Buffy."

"The Cullens?" Jessica said, the voice lowered, like it was something shocking. She dragged me into a booth.

"Oh my god. Tell me absolutely everything." She said in an excited hush, holding my hands. "Was Edward there? Did he talk to you."

"Yeah, well, briefly, actually he took a turn monitoring me. I woke up and he was there reading a book beside my bed."

"He watched you sleep?" She gasped.

"It just sounds creepy when you say it like that." I said, and opened the menu to read. Jessica pushed it down so she could see me.

"What did he say to you?"

"Not much. Honestly. I spent most of the time unconscious or hanging out with Alice." Jessica looked incredulous, or suspicious. I wanted to throw her a bone so she would get off my case, and my lunch options.

"Ooh, FYI, Edward and Alice are not dating. Rosalie and Emmett? Total datage confirmed. Alice says they have been sweethearts, like, foreverrrr."

"Get out of here."

"If that's the only way I get to eat." I smiled, tugging the menu back as politely as I could.

Jessica nervously said "So, uh, are you gonna make a play for Edward now the coast is clear? He seems into you."

"Actually, I was thinking Mike." I said, thinking back. "What's today's special?"

"On the board. It's gross, you don't want it. Have the soup. Mike? As in Newton?"

I shrugged. He was as good as any at this stage. Still, I had to consider Edward now Jessica brought up the subject. He was handsome on a scale outside of the usual 1 to 10 by a factor of astronomical, but even so something unsettled me about him. Sure, that could have been my delusional world infringing plus an unhealthy dose of paranoia, but the effect was still the same- Edward Cullen gave me the serious wiggins. So, that's all she wrote. No, Mike was the option presenting itself. Safe. Familiar. Like Jeffrey was back at Hemry.

"Yep. Mike. Newton." I nod for added emphasis. "Bonus? Already has Charlie's stamp of approval._ Good family. Good kid_." Okay, so my Charlie impression needs work.

"I don't get you." she says, shaking her head disapprovingly. I was too hungry right now to care.

The only thing on the menu that seemed interesting was the special. I sigh.

"Fine, I'll have the soup."

...

Jessica gave me a lead on a possible solution to my dilemma. A local Quileute artist had fallen in love with metal work, and Jessica was sure she had some clothing racks.

Her workshop was nearby. A small shed just off of, but clearly visible from, the main road. I could hear hammering as I approached.

In front of the workshop a huge black wolf stood guard. It was made from welded sheets of steel. As I got close to admire it, I realised the metal had ornate patterns cut through, which gave the thick, aggressive sculpture a lace like quality close up. The patterns appeared to tell Quileute stories; Wolves and hunters running side by side in the forest. It was fascinating.

Inside I found exactly what I needed. A beautiful free standing garment rack in wrought iron. Like the wolf, it is beautifully worked, the metal coiled and the ends hammered into delicate leaves, like the trees that inspired it. Then, another thing caught my eye. A full length mirror made in the same style. It reminded me of Alice, standing behind me, her breath caressing…

"Sorry that one's already sold." A voice says behind me. I turned to see a tall, muscular girl with dark almond shaped eyes and jaw length black hair approaching me. She is wearing black shorts and a tight sleeveless white top, revealing copper skin sheened with sweat. On her right shoulder is a large round tattoo.

"If you want me to, I can make you one just like it."

I realised I was staring, gaping ay her like a fish. Not a good look. So I turned back to the mirror.

"Uh, yes. I would like that. Your work is amazing. Is the rack over there available?"

She smiles, casually pulling off her heavy gloves and casting them onto a… well, I wasn't exactly watching where they went, I was focused on how carved the muscles in her arm where.

"Very." She said. "I can do you a good price if you take the two together. I can have the mirror done by, say, Wednesday night?"

"That would be… yes. Very." I said. Her smile tugged at the side of her full lips. She was eyeing me curiously, her hands at her hips, as if trying to figure something out. She seemed to have no qualms about staring. I blushed.

"Chief Swan' daughter, right?" She said.

"Yeah, Buffy Summers. Uh… Swan. Buffy Swan." I said, offering her my hand. She looked at it with amusement, shook it once. God her hands were so big and burned hot in mine.

"So which is it? A Summer or a Swan? I mean, they both really suit you."

"It's Summers. Now. My mum remarried. But everyone in the town calls me Swan. I guess Swan is easier."

"Which do you want to be?" she said.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second.

"I'm Buffy Swan." I say, and offer my hand again.

"Leah Clearwater."

It must be the furnace, but I felt suddenly thirsty.

...

We arranged for Leah to deliver the mirror, and she helped me strap the rack down into the tray of my truck. I hadn't know the "back bit thingie" was called a tray, but Leah filled me in. She also knew it was Billy Black's old truck and where I lived. Real small town, I guess.

I made a couple more stops, a few cans of white paint and a brush from the hardware store, a small bookshelf, a lamp and a string of fairy lights that I pictured stringing up over my window to give the room a warmer feel.

As I was loading all this into my truck, I spotted Charlie's cruiser pull in to the station. I locked the cab and walked over.

"Buffy, what are you doing here?" He said. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Too wicked, I guess." I shrug "how did the hunt go?"

"Well, we didn't find anything. Whatever it was must be long gone. With any luck."

I should have been relieved, but I felt my paranoia rising steadily.

"Gonna be home for dinner? Thought I would cook up some chicken enchiladas. Or just set the kitchen on fire, honestly, it's fifty-fifty at this stage."

"Tell you what, why don't I take us out to the diner. Sort of a celebration that you're okay." He said.

"Probably would be cheaper than all the fire damage." I grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

…

After a quiet dinner, I followed Charlie back to his house, and he helped me steer my new clothing rack up into my room. He eyed the paint cans with suspicion, but didn't say anything. It was far too late to redecorate, but I would be damned if I didn't get my gorgeous new wardrobe hung properly before the night was out.

I caught myself burying my face into the grey turtleneck again; the temptation was just far too great for mortal me to resist. I had to ask Alice what it was. Maybe I could get a bottle when we went shopping in Seattle.

I took my pill again, and settled into bed. I lay the sweater across the pillow and fell asleep nuzzling into the delicious smelling, impossibly soft wool.

Tomorrow I would see Alice, and we would plan our trip.


	13. Lasting Impressions

Chapter 12

Lasting Impressions

I think the sunshine had lifted my spirits immensely, because I woke feeling charged and ready for the day.

No bad dreams. Well, no dreams at all, but I will take that over the hideous, blood soaked, gruelling nightmares that plagued me back in California.

The last dream I had was about the porcelain doll vam- no, I wouldn't use that word now -that creepy girl in the cloak. Admittedly, it was very tame by usual standards, but even still, I would accept a solid night sleep to anything that connected to my illness.

I even had the energy to fish around in my suitcase for my makeup kit and put some on for a change.

The clothes Alice had given me now hung on Leah's beautiful ironwork. I picked an outfit that Alice had called "tres chic" plus some other stuff I couldn't decipher in what sounded to my ear as perfect French. Today I felt it. Today was my Lazarus day, coming back from the truck crash, stronger, bolder and stylish. Don't mess with Buffy Swan- she is trop chic pour toi, biatch.

...

I set the plate before Charlie and sat down opposite him.

"You are real chipper today Buff."

"Mmmm hmmm" I said, chewing a thick mouthful of french toast.

"This wouldn't be over a boy, perhaps?"

"No. Just… guess I am just starting to find my groove, yunno?" I gulped down some coffee and started hacking off another mouthful. "Mmm- I mean, I am still single, if that is what your excellent and subtle detective work is seeking to uncover. Mmm-hmmm."

"What happened to Mike Newton's love child?"

"He hasn't asked me out yet." I said, stuffing my face again.

"You maybe wanna slow down a bit there Buff, you're giving me indigestion just watching."

"But these are just sooo good." I finished my last bite and washed it back with the last of my coffee "even if I do say so myself."

"So should I be getting ready to give Mike the 'shotgun and shovel' talk soon?"

"How very patriarchal B.S. dad. You gonna haggle over my dowry whilst you are at it? I think you can get at least thirty head of cattle for me."

Sometimes Charlie looks at me like I came from Mars. This would be one of those times.

"Besides, you decide to date the chief of police's daughter? Heavy consequences automatically implied." I say. Then a sobering thought hits me. "Oh god, I am doomed to date decent, law abiding guys, aren't I?"

His lip twitched twice- I nearly had him. I dump my dishes in the sink for later and head to the door.

"Okay, gotta get to school. This young mind won't eduyoomikate itself. Have a good day, father mine." And out the door I went.

A moment later I popped my head back in. "Almost forgot, Leah Clearwater said she will drop off my mirror on Wednesday night. She's *really* tall isn't she?"

"I guess." He said, rather bemused.

I came back in a moment later, ears flushed red.

"Forgot my bag. And coat. And keys."

…

Jessica was waiting by the parking lot to pounce on me as I arrived at school.

"Jesus Buffy, you look like A Cullen." Jessica Said. "Is it catching? Did you catch Cullen?"

"You likey? Alice gave me some outfits for saving her life. Stylish no?"

"Wait… Buffy Swan, are you actually wearing makeup? You are! Operation Date Mike is a go, I take it?"

"Actually, I just felt like it this morning. I was feeling kinda a frumpy mess. Guess I haven't been looking after myself lately. Another step in my twelve step goodness, I guess."

"Well, you look amazing." She said, her eyes flicking down to the floor.

We walked together to English. Around us people were noticing me. Rather than make me embarrassed, it fuelled me onwards. I straightened my back and held my chin a little higher. Truck? What truck?

"You know Jess, if you are still interested in Edward, I could talk to him for you. Subtly, of course. Maybe give him a friendly shove in your direction?"

"I don't think so. I just need to face facts, he is out of my league."

"Get over yourself, you are top of the league. A real grade A hottie." I looked around to see if anyone is in earshot then added "I mean, fact is you can even seduce perfectly straight girls with your feminine wiles."

Jessica flushed red and looked around nervously. Coast clear, a big wide grin followed. She giggled.

"Look, let me use my 'in' to the Cullenverse to dig around. Aren't you the least bit curious as to why Edward turned you down. What if it's changed?"

"Okay, but if it's bad, please sugar coat the heck out of it. And chocolate dip it. This girl's self esteem is on the ropes." She said, flustered. "And from now on, ixnay on that hingtay okay?"..

"Hey, you never know Jess, maybe you might catch Cullen too."

…

Okay so that plan didn't get off the ground. The Cullens were noticeably absent at lunch. I looked around for Alice, but she and her family where a no show. I felt my previously water tight mood sinking slowly.

Mike went totally non verbal when he saw me. Jess had to prompt him to compliment my outfit.

"Yeah, you look… good." He said, and just sat dumbstruck, shooting me glances now and again but otherwise focusing on his meal. I wasn't sure if I broke him or put him off. Either way, today was not going as planned at all.

Edward wasn't in biology either. His empty chair felt like a punch in my gut. I sat through the class replaying my stay at the Cullen's. Where I went wrong.

By the final bell I was thoroughly depressed. As the students pushed past me, I walked slowly back to my car.

As the parking lot was emptying, I noticed the dark blue truck from the accident was still there. Curiosity got the better of me, and so I walked over to examine it.

However as I approached, a spotted something red and white just beyond the tree line. A figure. It was Rosalie Hale. She was wearing a small red dress, totally out of place for the damp evening air. Her golden hair pulled back into a french braid, and her eyes looked black and sinister. She glared at me, head angled down, fists balled at her sides.

I knew my illness must be creating her. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly. I was having a bad day. I was stressed, and frustrated, and I was feeling rejected.

I startled as I opened my eyes. She was standing right in front of me.

"Stay away from us. Stay away from Alice. Do you hear me, Swan?" Her voice a low growl.

I felt time shift. My breathing felt deep and slow, pulling energy through my limbs. Muscles coming alive.

She went to push me back, but in an instant I was standing beside her, her hands met thin air and she stumbled forward.

Her expression changed from rage to confusion. A moment later, she had vanished into thin air.

I felt nauseated, staggering back against the truck bonnet. I fought against the panic attack, closing my eyes again, taking in shuddering breaths long and slow. Long and slow. Trying to remember Esme's words. Trying to calm myself.

_I am sick. I just imagined it. I am sick. I just imagined it. I am..._

I opened my eyes. The parking lot was empty. The puddles began to ripple as the drizzle built, and I could see a faint rainbow just beyond the cedars. No Rosalie. No threats.

I waited for a few more minutes, pressed against the cold metal, feeling its solidity, its truth. I knew I needed to get serious help now. The hallucinations where so real. What if I hurt someone? What if I…

_Couple of folk found dead past few days. Three now. Been happening since the night you got here._

It couldn't have been me, could it? No. That's ridiculous. I was unconscious for one of those at least. But... was I? I felt my paranoia creeping up again.

_Did I hurt Alice? Is that why Esme hates me? They all hate me. Everyone hates me._

I slid down the truck bonnet to the wet floor, covering my head with both my arms as I sobbed, deep wracking sobs. I was so, so sick. And I didn't want to go back there.

It was then I noticed that I was sitting in the dent of the truck. I shifted forward and climbed slowly back to my feet.

The entire left fender of the truck was crumpled like it had slammed into and wrapped around a pole. The metal was thick and sturdy, like my own truck. I ghosted my fingers over the damage. Then I noticed something that made my heart leap.

In the deepest part of the damage was a perfect human hand print.

Trembling, I placed my palm into the impression.

It fit perfectly.


	14. Heartbeats

Chapter 13

Heartbeats

I sat in my truck cab to keep out of the rain, the engine idling, pushing hot dusty air onto my frozen limbs. I had no idea how long I sat there, but I eventually came to my senses. Even still, it took me awhile to pull myself together enough to drive home, which I eventually did, slowly and cautiously. The wind was picking up.

Charlie arrived at the house before me. He was already beer in hand, watching baseball when I hung up my coat.

"You okay, Buffy? You're not usually in after me."

"I think… "

"Buffy?" He said, placing down his beer and standing. "Elizabeth? Are you alright?"

"I think… dad, I think I am really sick." I said.

"I'll call The Cullens."

"No!" I said. "No, please." What if she can tell? She can always tell. What if she sections me? I didn't want to go back to that place- the ward. I never wanted to go back. I felt tears welling in my eyes. I had to think.

"No, dad. I… I mean, just regular sick. Like flu sick. I… I just need some sleep." To this Charlie pressed his fingers to my head.

"Yeah. Best bet. You do feel like you're running a fever"

"I'll just take some tylenol and get an early night. Maybe, give tomorrow a miss. If that's okay."

"Sure thing kiddo. I'll give the school a call in the morning. Go on up now."

I shrugged off my damp clothes and tossed them into the hamper, took my pill and had a hot shower before I went to bed.

The wind had really picked up outside, and I realised I had left my window open, and the curtains were wildly dancing around. I closed and bolted the window shut. I drew the curtains.

My body was aching and hot, the shower had done little to ease my tension. I stood in my room, naked, just looking at my bed like it was an alien thing.

I was losing it. And all of this, even so meagre as it was, it was heavenly compared to the institution. Here I had some hope. Some future. Something to focus on other than the whirl of my thoughts, the numbing boredom between meals or registrar visits. The scents of the rain and trees and earth. I couldn't go back. I refused to go back. Back was permanent.

I had dug my nails into my palms. A small amount of blood pooled around one of the little moon shapes. I licked it away.

I stayed in bed the next day. Getting up only to go to the toilet and eat cereal. I buried myself into the covers, Alice's sweater against cheek- though the scent was fading now, it still gave me some comfort.

By Wednesday I wasn't feeling any better, and Charlie allowed me another day to recover. I heard him call the school, and he told them he thought I had rushed my recovery from the accident a bit. That it must have caught up with me. Maybe he was right.

He called me later to say he had to stay back late as another body had been found- this one a hiker from out of town, mauled up in the mountain trails.

I wasn't completely useless. I did manage to cook a healthy meal for when Charlie came home. It sat in the oven with heating instructions taped to it. I ate more cereal and returned to my warm little cocoon.

It was a shock when the doorbell rang, followed by a heavy, loud knocking. I cautiously made my way downstairs and peeked through the window.

It was Leah Clearwater. I had completely forgotten.

"Uhm, hi Leah. Sorry, I was resting. Don't get too close I am kinda sick."

"I don't get sick." She said confidently, and brought what I assumed was my mirror inside. It was wrapped in a rug. "Where do you want it?"

"It's okay there, I can take it up to my room"

"Don't be silly. You're sick." She said, and carried it effortlessly to the stairs.

"Uh, first room on the left." I said, following the powerful woman. She was wearing a faded green top that showed off her shoulders. Which… fair. I had a perfect view of the muscles dancing under her copper colored flesh. She really was breathtakingly athletic. I wondered if this is how I made Alice feel by comparison.

Leah placed the mirror exactly where I had planned to put it, funnily enough, and stepped back, looking about my room with that confident, even stare which she appraised me with during that first meeting. Her eyes settled on the untouched cans of paint.

"Planning on painting this all yourself?" She said.

"I was, before I got sick."

"Well, you need a hand, gimme a call. I like painting. I find it soothing. When you not sick" she smiled that enigmatic, casual smile and gestured to the mirror.

"So, gonna open it?"

I felt strangely afraid at what I would see if I did. Paranoia rising yet again.

"I… can you open if for me?" I said. I sat down on the edge of my bed. Leah chuckled and turned to look at me. She tugged away the covering, revealing what was underneath.

The mirror was amazing. Black metal twisting like trees, elegant, sensual, strong. The leaves, unlike the one in the shop, where etched through- lace like, as she had done with the wolf.

"It's perfect Leah, oh god. It's beautiful. It's so much better than the other."

"Well, it helps to know who I was making it for. I try to put a bit of each person's spirit in. As well as my own, of course."

I approached, stroking the metal work.

"I have no words. Thank-you for making this for me Leah."

If she can stare unashamedly at me, I can at her. Her smile was so rewarding- she bloomed with pride. I stepped forward and hugged her. She held me in her strong arms, and I felt safe for the first time since my breakdown. I felt tears come to my eyes again, but there was no pain. Leah's hot skin smelled of the forest, of wood smoke and leather. I realised I was holding her a little too long. I pulled away, burning with embarrassment.

"Sorry, that was inappropriate."

"I didn't mind." She said. "You look liked you needed."

"Yeah, I guess. It's been a long while since… sorry. I barely know you."

"We can change that. How about when you are better we hang out. Maybe come to La Push with me?"

I nodded, feeling a little less embarrassed. "That would be awesome."

There was a car horn from outside.

"That's Jacob. He gave me a lift. I better…" she didn't break eye contact as she said this.

"Yeah" I said.

Her hand pressed against my arm, the flesh hot. It lingered for a moment.

"Get well soon, Buffy Swan." She said, and pulling away from me slowly, and made her way downstairs. A moment later the sound of a car pulling away into the night.

I drew in a deep breath and flopped back on the bed.

No matter how I tried to deny it, I found myself growing ever more aware of a pattern. I wasn't stupid. I could see it. I just didn't want to.

Jessica. Alice. Leah.

My body wanted something it shouldn't. I was burning with arousal, my heart hammering and I was angrily aware of the delicious throbbing between my legs.

I wanted to touch myself. I wanted to think of Leah's dark eyes and taught muscular body, and have the thought of her lips on mine as I come undone. It was wrong. It was all wrong. I was all wrong.

I growled at my ceiling as my body growled at me for the release I was denying it.

I had to do something. So I slipped on my tracksuit and runners, and headed out into the night.

The moon was full and the forest path clear as I ran. The night air damp and fresh, sharp and fragrant.

I thought of Leah and ran harder. My heart thumping lightly in my chest.

I was in a clearing now, the rolling landscape thick with leaves, the ferns thinning. I thought of Jessica, years ago, her gasps and giggles as we explored, hidden away under my blankets, her eyes sparkling as we dared each other onwards. I started to sprint.

The trees started to blur as I ran on, not knowing or caring where I was heading. I leaped a fallen tree, easily clearing the mossy trunk and landed on the dark soil firm and strong. I picked up the pace.

Alice. Her cool fingers hovering above my flesh. Her golden brown eyes, so filled with need, the delicate tremble of her. My dream, from the accident, of her cold lips on my burning throat. I leaned into the run, launching myself off another log, high and strong into the night. Landing with a roll, tucking, flipping up to my feet.

I saw an image of Merrick, glaring at me with his stopwatch in hand as I rolled and threw the stakes, striking the targets directly in the heart. One, two, three.

I ran up a tilted tree trunk, the moist wood denting under my feet as my legs drove hard into it. I went faster. Higher. I leapt off the slanted tree and caught a branch, flipping smoothly, landing on another, thicker branch without breaking stride and up onto a plateau. I sprinted harder along it's perilous edge, hammering my limbs, reaching deeper and deeper into my resources, finding more and more. Below me the forest blurred, the trees to my left flitted past faster and faster, I was growling now, like a beast. The darkness felt like nothing to me, the drop- nothing.

The night was mine.

I saw Lothos as he rose up, flesh torn and hissing. I felt my stake in my fist, ready to strike. I felt the power surge through me, ancient and deadly. A lineage of girls gifting me their strength.

I tore off a living tree branch effortlessly as I ran, the sharp wooden spike feeling at home in my hand. Purposeful, true.

I remembered slamming my stake into his chest. The unholy scream issuing from his lips as I drove it deep, piercing his black heart. How he set ablaze, his body crumbling as it burned from within. Ending him. Ending his corruption forever.

I roared as I jumped, my limbs flailing the air, the cliff below me falling away fast, I plunged down and down over the waterfall, the rocks smashing and churning the water below me.

I landed on the other side, rolling over and over, until- at my command, my feet dug into the soil, and I skidded a long, long furrow in the ground till I came to a stop. My body poised and ready to fight.

My heart beat loud and clear. I gazed up at the impossible jump.

And I knew.


	15. This, I am

Chapter 14

This, I Am

I knew what I was. I couldn't deny the truth of my body; that truth was as deep and clear to me as my handprint in the metal.

I could do things no other human could do. Survive things no other human could survive. When I really need it, when I reach deep inside for it, it was there waiting for me. My legacy. Handed down from Slayer to Slayer for countless generations. The strength to crush metal, leap ravines, heal wounds and move as fast as my prey.

The Watcher's Council had not found me in time. Merrick had barely had time to train me to tap into that power. When he died, it left me so very lost. All evidence up in smoke, leaving me with nothing to grasp onto, no anchor to my insane existence in a seemingly sane world. Medicated and faced with the harsh light of day, I had lost that connection to what I was. To who I was.

I am The Slayer.

Of that I am certain.

Also, I was pretty damn certain that I was currently lost. Goddamn forest.

It took me several hours to find my way back to Charlie's house. I was exhausted but still wired as I fumbled for the key in the eaves.

Thankfully, Charlie was already asleep- I could hear him snoring gently as I crept down the hall to my own. I still had the makeshift stake I had torn from the tree. I placed it by my bedside and stripped off my sweat soaked running gear. I caught my reflection then.

The Buffy I saw in Leah's mirror looked angular, her pale muscles lean and taut. Dark predatory eyes gazed back from a cold face framed with crudely cropped chocolate hair beaded with dew and sweat. A nose strong and keen. I saw the hunter. I saw the killer.

I towelled myself dry and laid on the bed. My breaths even and controlled. If I am real, then they are real. And I had so many questions still to answer.

I closed my eyes and waited for what dreams may come.

I saw wolves in the darkness, giant paws churning the forest floor. Their fur bloodied, their muzzles dripping with foam.

Something moving in the trees. A face, perfect white with blood red eyes framed about with ginger coils. Her claws raking bark from the trees. She cackles and leaps again. The wolves in hot pursuit.

I saw a dark place, an old asylum- groans and gibbering in the candle light. The stench of urine and hay. A young girl bound in a straitjacket, a shadow cast by a statue, an angel, falls over her. She looks up sobbing. Her face is so like Alice's, but not- cruder, rounder, ruddier, marked with scars, her eyes the deepest brown. A man you cannot see comforts her, running his dirty hand tenderly over her crudely shaved head.

"How the world has been so cruel to you, little Mary Brandon. So cruel." The man says. "But I won't let the angel get you. He cannot have you as his plaything. He can never sully your precious gift" He says, and she nods, calming somewhat under his gentle strokes though her gaze remains distant.

"The angel draws near." She says fearfully, her breaths ragged, but then, her expression changes to a warm, content smile. "But you watch over me." She says, and she turns her head to look directly at me.

And then, drawing her into his arms, the man tears out her throat with his teeth.

Charlie finished up frying our breakfast as I sat, silent and motionless at the table. A hearty meal of bacon and eggs- the one thing he could cook- was placed before me.

He sat down across from me and started to eat with one hand, whilst reading the morning paper.

I had so much to say to him, and what felt like so little time. I was haunted by Merrick's words about how short the lives of Slayers. Something about the warning dreams that had reached me had unsettled me deeply. I was only sixteen, my seventeenth birthday drawing close, but I somehow knew I would never reach eighteen. So, there was so much to say to Charlie, and so little time.

"Dad." I said, "I never really say this, I know. But I want you to know, I love you, and I grateful for everything. My truck, my room... this second chance that you gave me. All of it."

Charlie eyed me with concern. He put his paper down and looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Buffy, you're scaring me. You talk like that, well, it makes me kinda worried that you are planning to do something."

I laugh bitterly.

"What's going on Buffy? I'll admit, I'm not the best at this kind of thing, but you do know you can talk to me. You can tell me anything. Anything at all."

"I… it's not that kinda talk." I say, picking up my fork and pushing the food around my plate. "I just, well, I have been really dealing with so much this past year. I want you to know, whatever happens, I am grateful. Really."

This doesn't console Charlie, he seems just as concerned.

"Dad, if I had a secret. A huge secret… something of the big..." I trailed off, and placed my fork back next to the plate, pushing it so it lined up perfectly with the knife. I turned the coffee cup handle towards me.

"I won't judge Buffy. You're my little girl, are you in trouble? You need something, I..."

"Leah invited me to La Push." I said, meeting his gaze. I took a breath. "And, I think… well… I am pretty sure it is meant to be a date."

Charlie sits quietly. I am not sure he gets what I am trying to say at first. He slides his hands down onto the table and spreads the fingers out.

"And… you are okay with that?"

"Yes." I said. "I am."

Charlie sits still for what seems to be forever, I guess because I have my breath held tight. He taps a finger on the table then leans back in his chair.

"Leah's a good kid." He says. "Clearwaters are a good family."

I let my breath out.

"Thank-you dad."

He nods, picks up his paper and returns to reading.

"Tell her, if she breaks your heart I have a shovel and a shotgun."

I left shortly after, pointing Good Boy towards school. At first. I had no intention of letting dad know where I was actually going: Port Angeles. Because I had questions that needed answers.

I was so confused about The Cullens. Their skin was so deathly pale, their alien beauty so perfect. I had never seen them eat, but they did not fear the sun, nor the cross. They did not have the tell tale red pupils, their eyes were like honey. And the biggest confusion- they lived and loved, had jobs- jobs where they saved people's lives.

And more things I did not understand. Four people were dead. In my dreams, dire wolves ran with vampires in the woods. A mad girl hunted by an angel.

And most chilling of all, the wicked doll of a girl and the calling of a Boston slayer. Because that meant I would die.

I am The Slayer. So Merrick existed. So out there, somewhere, The Watchers Council exists.

I had to find them. And soon.

After asking around, I finally found the Port Angeles community library. It reminded me of a nissan hut, like the hangars I had seen in world war 2 movies, but painted in creme and deep green. The computers were surprisingly new, and thankfully one with the modem was available.

It was pointless searching for vampires, so I concentrated my search on Merrick Jameson-Smythe. I found nothing in obituaries, no newspaper articles, nothing at all. Not even a class listing in any English universities.

I growled in frustration and chewed my pencil. Perhaps his existence had been erased to protect the council.

It seemed unlikely The Watchers Council would have a presence on the net because Merrick was a walking anachronism. Still, I was desperate, so I searched for them.

After two hours of this, my back aches and my head is fuzzy. I skipped my pill last night, for obvious reasons, but I had not slept. Super powers or not, this girl was pushing her limits. I checked my watch; I would have to leave soon to get back before dad.

But then, just as I resigned myself to returning home in defeat, a small window popped up on the screen. It had no text, no links, just a blinking cursor and a little logo. It was of a book and an eye, placed so that together they formed the silhouette of a shield.

The cursor blinked impatiently waiting for me to type.

》My name is Buffy. Merrick Jameson - Smythe was my Watcher. He died. If this means anything to you, I need help.

There was a little beep. A message clicked up on the screen.

-Buffy Summers?

I felt my throat go dry.

》Yes.

-I have been searching for you.

》Who is this?

-My name is Diana. I am like Merrick. What has happened?

》Lothos caught him. He shot himself.

-And what of Lothos?

》Dust. All his minions too. I am alone now. I don't know what to do.

-Where are you?

》Forks, Washington State.

-Please wait…

I watch the cursor ticking away for several minutes, feeling a sense of unease. I felt exposed.

-Buffy, I am in London. I can be in Forks in three days. How can I contact you?

I typed in Charlie's address.

-You are a very brave girl Buffy. Everything is going to be okay. Sit tight. I am on my way.

The box disappeared. I glared at the empty screen. It felt strangely like it had never been there at all.

I blew out a deep breath and slumped back in my chair, feeling tears come to my eyes. I let them fall.

_Everything is going to be okay_.


	16. Hunger

Chapter 15

Hunger

I arrived home before Charlie. I had forgotten to eat at Port Angeles, and boy, was I running on fumes. I devoured a bag of chips and I set about making a sizeable dinner.

Knowing Diana was on her way here to Forks, was really starting to sink in. Someone who could answer my questions, someone I could talk to without the need to edit. I felt an ease wash over me. Three days. I just had to sit tight.

Oh, however was I to pass the time? I grinned at the thought, then danced over to pick up the phone and dial the number Leah had given me at her foundry.

"Harry Clearwater" a man's voice said.

"Uhm, Mr. Clearwater? This is Buffy, Chief Swan's daughter. Is Leah there?"

"Oh yes, I remember you from when you were very little. You used to come fishing with your father and I. You sound so grown up."

"I guess I am." I said, rather flushed. The memories felt so far back. So much has happened to me since those simple days.

"Do you still fish?".

"No, more of the hunter type now".

"Really? Well, it will be good to see you. You must visit with your father someday soon. I will get Leah for you " he said. A moment later the phone rustled again.

"Buffy?"

"That's me." You say, nervously. " Reporting in… I am all better now."

"That's good to hear. So… La Push? The weather is supposed to be good on Wednesday. Sound good?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you still wanted to help me paint. Tonight, maybe?"

"I would like that. After dinner okay?"

"Very." I said, and felt like I was running through the woods again.

…

Looking back, I am sure Charlie and I had dinner, but I cannot remember a damn thing about it, I was so excited.

Naturally, I changed into something casual to paint in, which included a shower, perfume and a full face of makeup- all very important for redecorating.

I had my furniture pulled away from the walls and was working the lid off the paint when the doorbell rang. I heard voices.

"Good evening Chief Swan sir, my father asked me to give you this." As I descended the stairs, she was handing over a parcel, which he accepted graciously. I had not a single care as to what was inside, well… because Leah existed.

She wore knee length jean shorts, and a red and grey plaid shirt over a short faded black top. Her tattoo peeked out from the short sleeves. My breath caught as she noticed me, her nerves, for once showing.

"Hey Leah." I said, as calmly as I could manage, which, yeah, wasn't very convincing, I will admit.

"Hi" She said, tipping her head my way. She looked at Charlie, as if to have permission to cross the threshold. Nod given, she stepped in, tucking her hands into her jeans pockets.

"Well," Charlie looked uncomfortable, more so than usual. "I am going to catch the game on the big screen down at Coles." He pulled on his jacket and picked up his hat. "I guess I will be back in a couple of hours."

"Night dad." I said.

"Good night Chief Swan", Leah said.

And with that, Charlie left us alone. Bless his cotton socks.

…

The faded blue was quickly disappearing under a fresh, linen white coat. Leah sat cross legged at my feet, her brush carefully gliding along the skirting. As she worked, she had a focus to her gaze I found so very familiar. I had seen it on my own only the night before.

We had exchanged little conversation past pleasantries and had set about the task at hand with smiles and glances. The first swipe of paint on my wall felt wonderful. Leah laughed as I slashed the next few strokes with abandon. She joined in.

We settled down as we worked, more glances and smiles. Within no time we both had paint flecks on our faces.

I had slipped on a mix CD I had made back in California- back just before my calling. The track playing was a song by Garbage. I had never really listened to the lyrics before but tonight they caught my attention.

_I'll tell you something_

_I am a wolf but_

_I like to wear sheep's clothing_

_I am a bonfire_

_I am a vampire_

_I'm waiting for my moment_

Huh. Go figure.

"You always so talkative?" She said, shaking me from my thoughts.

"You caught me on a good day. You could usually run my truck off the energy my mouth requires." I said. She turned that focus back to me, an easy smile on her lips. I sighed.

"You know, I guess it's just been a rough year" I confessed "It's all starting to sink in for me."

"Yeah, same here. So many changes. My dad had a heart attack- my responsibilities changed. I had to really step up. Been real heavy. You know the deal?"

"I do." I said. I put down the brush on the can and I sit down on the floor, drawing my knees up to my chin. "One minute you are a girl, life is easy. Then, one day, all of a sudden you are a woman and all these burdens and responsibilities appear. And nothing really prepares you for it."

She focuses back on the wall and nods, with a graceful stroke she covers the last of the blue.

"There. All done." She smiles, and places her brush next to mine. We look at our work together. The room seems bigger now, it's energy renewed, it was now a space to start a new page of my life. I feel joyful, and ever so ready.

Three days.

Leah looks at me, that even stare, burning into me. I can feel her body heat even from where I sit. Leah blazes like the metal she works, strong… and… er… hot, I guess. I could hear the patter of rain against the roof starting to build, the swish of the firs stirring in the wind.

Strong by Velvet Change starts to play. The mood in the room changed with it.

"Is there a story behind that Tattoo?"

"Yeah." she says, rather sheepishly. "It's A Quileute thing."

"Looks like two wolves. Am I reading that right?"

"Yeah." She strokes her fingers over the inked flesh. "It means… I am a protector of my people. I descend from a mighty wolf chief." She shrugs. "You kinda have to know the history for it to make sense."

"Maybe you can share those stories with me sometime. I would love to know all about you."

She looks at me with a strange look I cannot quite catch. I detect a change of subject is in order.

"So, Leah Clearwater, descended from a great wolf chief. Finding this all as soothing as you hoped?" I say.

"Yeah. This is nice. I am glad I came over." She leans back on her hands, admiring our work. "So… what would you like to do now? Buffy Swan, descendant of police chiefs" She says. Her confident gaze is back, and it makes me melt.

"Honestly?" I said.

"Yes."

"I want to kiss you."

She closes her eyes and draws a slow breath in, it shudders on the way out. When she looks back, her beautiful deep, eyes are dark with desire.

I crawl towards her, cautiously. She does not back away, her eyes follow mine as I approach. I slow as I cross the invisible boundary into her personal space, her territory. I hover there, eyes locked on hers.

She rises off her hands, her powerful body drawing her slowly up onto all fours. Her eyes level to mine, she crosses hand over hand, circling me, cautiously. I keep still, tracking her with my eye as she moves. I feel the heat of her breath on my neck and turn my head. She nuzzles in, drawing deep of my scent.

I draw back onto my knees, returning the gesture, eyes locked on hers as I do. Her eyelashes are dark and long, like feather dusters, her eyes bright and clear, pupils dilating as I grow close.

Neither of us touch, just exploring our proximity, testing the boundary. Her scent is deep and erotic, perfumed arousal, carried on her heat. I draw it in, let it speak to my own body freely. No longer afraid of what it meant. I knew what it meant.

Our first kiss is primal. Our bodies come together, fingers interlocking, pushing and pulling. Muscle working against muscle. A sensual war of supremacy. Our tongues hot against each other, tasting, exploring. I feel the wetness of my arousal flow, and she groans, almost as if she could smell my scent rising, like I could hers.

We fall to the floor, the struggle not yet won, rolling this way and that, our bodies aching for each other, for release. Skin feverish hot, mouths soft, eager for flesh.

I feel her mound press against mine and I growl, grinding back against her, drawing out a low groan from her lips.

Clothing is torn away quickly enough, a mere boundary to the inevitable. I pulled her top free and twisted it around her wrists, pulling her arms down to the floor, gaining dominance as I straddled her naked body. She bucked, but I was too strong, too supple, and I hold- a jolt of pleasure running through me as she struggles.

Leah arches, and I lock my feet behind her firm ass. She gasped as I grind down into her once more, sex on sex. Direct, scorching, so incredibly satisfying.

I feel Leah go limp, but is a ruse- she twists suddenly, slamming me onto my back, teeth nipping at my throat as she takes control. Her hands free, she pins me down and works herself against me. I let her, savoring the pleasure that her muscular hips deliver. She grins smugly- a mistake- too much of a challenge for me to resist. I respond by a twist of my legs, once again spinning her onto her back. She looked shocked, and tries to roll us over again, her muscles rippling to best me. I do not give an inch.

"You're real strong. Like… real strong. " she said, a curious expression on her brow.

"So are you." I said. "Someone is gonna get hurt if we keep this up, obviously. You need to say 'uncle' for your own good."

"In your dreams, Swan." She growls, a wicked grin across her face. Her hand finds my entrance, and... ohhhhh, a wave of deep pleasure grips me, leaving me pawing at the floor.

"Hey… that's… oh god… cheating." I manage. With a victorious cry, Leah flips me onto my back. And damn me, I just let her. Because holy frick, that girl *_really_* is talented with her hands.

"Round one, Clearwater." I say, pulling her into a deep kiss before flipping her again. I give her a saucy flick of my brow and start to kiss my way down her body. "But I… can fight… dirty… too"

Leah gasps out loudly as I find my target.

…

Aching deliciously, we lay together on my bed. The rain patterning against the window in a steady even rhythm. Clothing would have to return soon, we both knew, but for now we just lay there, revelling in the heat of our bodies, the tangle of limbs, our rich, heady musk. I had never felt so relaxed in my life. Yay me.

Leah casually played with my fingers, her deep copper skin made mine look like milk by comparison. I thought of a pale hand, like ice against mine.

Leah sighed contentedly, which made me smile. I felt so incredibly comfortable, not just physically, but with everything that had transpired between Leah and myself. So there it was; the complete and irrevocable truth- I liked girls.

I *_really_* liked girls.

Sure, troubles and secrets would have to follow, it was 1993 and we lived in a small town of Washington state after all, but at least, at this very moment, I was at peace with myself over this undeniable part of me.

"So what now?" Leah says.

"Ice cream." I said with a confident nod. She chuckles deep and free. "But… I suspect you mean what happens between you and me?"

"Yeah." She says. "Chocolate?"

"Of course- who do you think I am?" you say, toying with her fingers. "Charlie knows... that I liked you. He is okay with us dating."

"Wow, really?" She says, looking surprised. "Huh. Well, that does make things simpler."

The rain pattered on, filling the silences.

"What about your folks? They gonna go nuclear if they find out we are a thing?"

"I don't know. But it's really hard to keep secrets from my family. They will know. But if they have a problem with it, with us, they better be ready to go through me. I don't back down. Ever."

"I remember." I say. "Even if you lose."

"I let you win, Swan, and you know it." She chuckles again and pulls my hand to her mouth, kissing the knuckles.

"There was mutual letting of win." I say, but shakes her head.

I really liked how protective Leah is, I stroked my hand down her muscular arm, revelling in the freedom to touch as well as look. I felt wrapped in her- her arms, her heat, her scent, her protectiveness. It reached something really deep within me. I nestled in further, pulling the pillows under us.

Suddenly, Leah's head snapped to the side, and for a dreadful moment I thought Charlie was home. But she fished around in the pillows and pulled out my grey sweater.

"Who's is this?" She says, giving it a cautious sniff. She pulls away, revolted and throws it to the floor.

"Mine." I said "well, mine now. My friend Alice gave it to me as a gift."

"Cullen?" She said. She looked angry.

"Yeah." I said, pulling myself up to sitting. "Why?"

"Did you invite her in?" She says. And that just spoke volumes to me.

"What do you know about the Cullens?"

She looked uncomfortable, and hurridly rose from the bed, pulling on her clothes.

"Leah? What aren't you telling me?"

"The Cullens… they are… they are not welcome on our territory."

"And what? You sleep with me once and suddenly my bed is your territory?" I snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that." She said. She pulled on her black top, tucking it unto her jeans angrily. She let out a frustrated growl and stood, hands on hips, head hung low. She mutters sharply under her breath in what I assume is Quileute.

"Buffy, I am sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I am just worried about you."

I feel cold away from the heat of her body, so I stand and start dressing. "Trust me Leah, I can take care of myself."

"It's just… there are stories - among my people. Our history with the Cullens is long and dark."

"They got here two years ago."

"No. They just moved back. The Cullens have held that land for hundreds of years. They..." she looks down as if reprimanded.

"Leah. Tell me."

"They aren't what they seem. Just… stay away from her; from them. Okay?"

"Because they are vampires." I say flatly.

Leah looks away, she pulls on her plaid shirt and sits on the edge of my bed, seemingly unsure of what to do.

"I get it. You've said too much, right?" I say with a frustrated sigh, sitting on the bed beside her. She keeps her eyes down.

"Look, Leah, I don't want to get you into any trouble." I say softly. "But, where I come from? The job of protecting people falls on my shoulders." I press my fingers gently against her tattoo, stroking the inked flesh. Her eyes flutter shut.

"Leah, four people are dead. It wasn't wild dogs. I suspect you know the truth. If it is The Cullens, or something like them, believe me I can help. Tell me what you know."

"I think there is someone you must talk to at La Push."

"Okay, but... can we have ice cream first? I am just gonna be hankering for it all night now" Leah laughs at me, shaking her head in disbelief.


	17. Breaking Point

Chapter 16

Breaking Point

I left Charlie a note, saying Leah was taking me on a date, whilst she made a phone call. She spoke in Quileute, so I had no idea what she was saying. In no time at all, I found myself on the back of Leah's Harley Sprint motorbike, heading for La Push.

I wrapped my arms tight around Leah's solid body, and leaned into her back for warmth. The night was drizzly, and though I had on a leather jacket Alice had given me, I still felt the chill and the damp seeping in. Leah wore nothing but her short sleeve shirt and top, but her body remained steaming hot. Actually, the memory of what lay underneath the thin clothes was keeping me pretty warm as it was.

La Push was around 7 or 8 miles west of Forks, and the way Leah rode her Harley Sprint we arrived in little time.

She slowed as we reached a gate leading to an unmade road. There, several men waited for us. They all had short cropped hair, and where stripped to the waist, their muscular torsos gleaming in the gentle rain. As we drew close, I could see they all had tattoos like Leahs. They didn't look pleased to see me. Leah pulled the bike to a stop just before the gate and let the engine idle.

Leah glared between the boys, who silently exchanged glances between themselves. One finally dipped his head and shied away, as if he was about to be struck, and opened the gate for us to pass.

Leah drove slowly up the wooded lane. The three boys glaring at me as we passed, following behind us. I felt a shiver travel down my spine, and pulled myself tighter to Leah.

She pulled over into what looked like an old barn at the top of the hill, and cut the engine. The rain tapped on the tin roof above my head. The space was clearly being used as a garage, against the walls were engine parts and several dirt bikes in various states of construction amongst big machinery such as lathes and… er… thingamebobs for… whatever mechanics did. The room smelt of engine grease, dust and gasoline. Leah collected the spare helmet from me and stowed them on the back of her bike.

"Over protective brothers?" I ask.

"Something like that." She says, and offers me her hand. I take it, the warmth instantly comforting, and she walks me through to the other side of the house via an old, even wooden porch. The smell of wood fire is sharp in my nose. Leah gives me a small smile, a little uncertain, perhaps, but she calms as I gently squeeze her hand.

"This your home?" I ask.

"I spend a lot of time here, but… no. I live just down the hill, see those trees? Just down there, near the river."

"Charlie used to take me fishing with your dad, would it have been down there?"

"Maybe." She says with a chuckle. "Wonder if we met when we were little?"

"See, now you got me wondering about that too. Who knows? Maybe you tugged on my pigtails or stole my fish. I know your type, Leah Clearwater." I say with a little wag of my finger. "You're trouble."

"You are so weird." She says. Leah's demeanor suddenly changes and she turns her head at an angle, sort of like how dogs do when they confused. "He is ready for you now. Follow me."

I follow Leah down the hill, through the drizzling night, to a small, long structure made from tin and wood. Within this shelter, a dozen or so people are gathered around a pit fire, wrapped warm against the chill. Food is being shared out on plastic plates and the mood is casual, there is laughter and conversation. As we get close, faces turn towards you, and there is a sense of excitement.

Leah still has your hand in hers, firmly, protectively, as she leads you to the side of the fire.

The man stands to greet you. He seems a strange mix of very old and yet agile and strong. His face is leathery, deeply wrinkled, but his eyes sparkle bright in the firelight- kind and welcoming. He wears a modern dark blazer, grey trousers and a rather snazzy tie of fine silk. His hair is long, silver and smooth. No introductions are made.

"Welcome, Miss Swan, welcome. Please, take a seat by the fire and help yourself to a blanket, you must be frozen." He says, his voice deep and slightly raspy. "I am sorry it had to be such a dismal night for us to meet, but it is what it is. We are all very excited to meet a legend, walking among us."

I felt somewhat embarrassed looking around at the expectant eyes. I sat where he gestured. Leah sat slightly back to my right- her hand finally leaving mine to accept a mug of coffee from a woman. I gladly follow suit. The coffee is sweet and creamy, and the mug feels heavenly between my hands, now Leah's warmth is gone. I glance around at the gathered people, who seem to be looking at me like a welcome curiosity. At the edge of the fire light, the burly young men hover, glaring. Their eyes catch the light like mirrors.

"There is a story of our people, Ms. Swan, of a girl born to a chief, who had strength and speed like no other. She was called Death's Gift. She could easily defeat the greatest of the wolves who protect our people." He says, turning to look at one of the powerful, grim faced young men. The old man seemed to find this amusing- but the boy goes not. He snarls.

"Death's Gift was sent to us to fight The Cold Ones who came to our shores among the white people."

"Lemme guess, these Cold Ones? Red eyes, not fond of sunlight, hard to kill, really bad diet?" I said.

"I like this one." He chuckles to Leah, who looks rather shy. "The story goes, that after Death's Gift defeated a great three headed beast like none we had ever seen, a old white man came to the village and took Death's Gift away with him. The people were unhappy to see her leave, but understood that she was to help all people in great need. It was said one day, when our need was as great, her descendant would return."

"I'm not exactly what you imagined, huh?"

"You?" Leah was looking at you now with shock in her eyes. "Seriously?"

"'Fraid so." I said, seepishly to her. I turnee back to the man. "In my culture, we are called Slayers. One girl in all the world who is granted the strength to defeat the vampires and demons, and... all manner of general squicky things that need to be made dead-er. When one of us dies, another is called somewhere in the world. And another, and another, so and so on and long story short, here I am. I'm the current Slayer." You sip the coffee. "This is _really_ good."

"I know, right? Anna gets it from Seattle."the man chuckles. "Leah cannot answer your questions, it is part of the magics that bind her. I do not have that limitation."

"Like, literally can't answer?." I said, looking at my lover in a new light. "Wow, I am so gonna poke that with a stick later."

I turn my attention back to the… what? Elder? Medicine man? Was he even human? I had so many questions (like, where exactly does Anna get this coffee?) but I stuck to the most pressing ones.

"The Cullens. What's their dealio? They aren't like any vampires I have met. But, they _are_ vampires? Right? Cold ones?"

"They are. Long ago, a pact was formed between The Cullens and our people. A treaty that we have kept since. They will not cross our borders, or harm our people, and in exchange, they may live in peace- hunt freely on their lands."

"Harm _your_ people. But what about all the other people? Seems a pretty loopy type of hole right there if you ask me."

"The Cullens are not like the rest of their kind, they are sworn to never feed on human blood. But do not make the mistake in thinking that makes them safe. Theirs is a burning hunger that cannot fully be quenched- they live with constant temptation."

So, it wasn't lust in Alice's eyes that night. She wanted me, but not in the way I had so readily imagined. I felt foolish.

"The Cullens keep the treaty, and we must keep their existence a secret."

"Like now?" I say, and the old man laughs.

"Leah said you already knew what they where." He leans towards me "we can work loopholes too."

"Tell me about the huge wolves."

"You seem to know many things, young Swan."

"I see things. Part of the whole Slayer gig." I shrug, tapping my skull. "Look, I only just need to know what I am dealing with here so I can help. Tell me about the wolves."

"It is said our people descend from wolves. Among us, are warriors with the gift to shape shift. They are sworn to protect us from the creatures of darkness. They are sworn to silent vigil."

I look then to Leah, and it is clear in her eyes what she had been trying to say earlier, without being able to say anything at all. Because she literally couldn't.

_Hi Mom, glad you called. Oh, you know, nothing much, just dating a lesbian teenage werewolf. No big_. How's the weather?

Wait a sec...

"How did you know what I am?" I asked, sipping the delicious coffee.

The man shrugs. "Leah said on the phone that you were stronger than her."

"Ha! I knew it... 'Let me win''- my butt !" I say, using air quotes. Leah growls, which… kinda makes a whole lot of sense now.

"You are such an ass" she says sulking, but a smile flickers up a moment after. I see that memory, Clearwater. Then she startles.

The mood has changed.

The old man is no longer smiling when I look back. He is gazing into the fire, a distant look, a far reaching look.

He turns and looks to the east, along with several others. Leah included. A babble breaks out among the gathered.

"Something is coming." She growls.

Leah and the boys are running now, towards the tree line, inhumanly fast. I cast aside my cup and blanket and sprint after them. The rain beating cold against my face.

A moment later, I am running alongside Leah, easily keeping pace, much to her surprise. I am aware as we enter the forest, that wolves from my dreams are running with us. Great, muscular beasts with strong paws, their thick fur pelts glistening with rain. I watch as one of the boys shifts before my eyes without breaking stride.

_Whoah_.

We reach a jagged waterfall framed by trees. There, standing alone, a small pale fleshed figure, clad in black.

More wolves appear from the woods behind the intruder as Leah and I skid to a halt. The figure, a woman, pulls back her rain hood.

It is Alice Cullen.

"Buffy!" She cries out as she sees me.

Leah steps in front of me, her thick arm out protectively.

"You dare break the treaty, Cullen?" she growls.

"I do. But... I had no choice but to come. I had to come. There is no time!"

"Your life is forfeit!" Leah says.

"So be it, but… please, don't harm my family, I beg you. I came of my own volition. Buffy, Charlie is in danger. We must go! Now!"

I feel my gut sinking, and push past Leah.

"Tell me".

"I… get visions. We all have been tracking the same foe. A cold one. She evades us both, back and forth over our boundary- because I think she has a gift… she can sense danger and evade it. She has been the one killing humans. In my vision, Charlie Swan will die tonight if Buffy does not come with me."

"Lies!" A powerful young man says, and charges Alice with a roar. There is a loud hiss, and his body shifts into a huge black wolf.

In a heartbeat I close the distance, snatching his front arm and scruff, slamming the wolf down into the forrest floor in a shower of leaves.

I am between Alice and Leah. The wolves close in, snapping and growling. The black wolf wimpers.

"Buffy?" Leah says.

"Buffy is the only one who has a chance to stop Victoria. She can negate our gifts… Victoria cannot see past Buffy. Don't you see? Buffy is the only one who stands a chance. But there is no time, we must go. Now."

"It's a trap" Leah says, a look of terror suddenly in her eyes. "Buffy, don't go."

"I have to." I say. Leah looks at me with pleading eyes.

"Don't do this. Please."

"Leah, I must. Promise me you won't harm The Cullens."

"They…"

"Swear to me Leah! If Alice is right, we have to stop the vampire. It is our duty. The lives of people come first."

"The Cullens are NOT people!"

"But they save lives Leah. They saved mine. If Alice is lying, do what you have to do to protect the people. But swear to me Leah. Give Alice this one chance to do right."

She edges forward, her face filled with anger. I ready myself to fight, spreading out my arms to protect Alice.

"You choose _that thing_ over me?" Leah says, angrily.

"I choose to do what is right."

I see only one answer. So I step towards Leah, pulling her close, placing my hands tenderly to her burning cheek, shutting out the world so it is just her and I.

"Promise me Leah?" I whisper. "I have to do this. I have to save my father". She gazes into my eyes, and relents. I place a kiss to her lips. "Wait for me."

I turn back to Alice.

"Take me to him. Now."

…

We sprint through the forest as fast as we can go. I can feel the wolves following, just out of view. They stay with us until we reach the road, where Alice's car sits idling, the lights on, the door still open.

In a second we are inside, Alice roars the engine and with a mighty screech we are away into the night.

I want to urge Alice to drive faster, but I don't honestly know how she could possibly do that. Her foot was flat to the floor, and she took each corner with inhuman precision. In the sickly green dashboard light, that is exactly how she looked… inhuman.

I could see it clearly now, the dead pale skin, the eyes bleached to gold where once there was brown. As focused as she was on the road, I could see her emotions clearly. The faint tremble of her shoulders was like she was sobbing. She had no tears to cry, but I could tell she was crying nonetheless.

"Alice… I…"

"This wasn't how it was supposed to go." She says. "I waited so long Buffy. I waited so, so long... The visions never changed. Until now."

"What visions?"

Alice takes her eyes off the road and looks at you, the grief clear upon her beautiful features. She returns to her task.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this… "

I feel words come to my lips, from the dream.

"How the world has been so cruel to you, little Mary Brandon. So cruel."

My words strike a deep chord in her, I can see her dark eyes working back and forth, struggling with something.

"Your name was Mary Brandon, back when you were alive. Wasn't it? "

"I... I don't remember when I was alive." She says. "Just, vague images. Voices"

"An angel?"

She swallows, and nods.

"I have visions too." I say. We sit in silence for a moment. "You know what I am, right Alice?"

"The Slayer." She says. "Esme only told us today. Edward knew too. He couldn't read your thoughts. They were protecting me. Us."

"From what?"

"We have few laws. But those laws are unbreakable. The Volturi would destroy our family if they thought we were protecting The Slayer."

"Is that what you were all doing? Protecting me?"

"Esme thought she was. She thought it was better for us all, and you, if you believed you weren't The Slayer. The Volturi couldn't fault us for letting you live out your days without ever harming vampires. That she wouldn't have to turn you in."

"Or kill me."

"We would never. But… it would have been a mercy if we did." She said. "If Aro of The Volturi knew it was you that killed his brother".

"Lothos." I sighed. I had told Esme everything. She manipulated me.

"Buffy, I am so scared. My visions depend on the decisions people make... everything... the future is changing so fast. I can't see how this is going to go. But I need you to know... I... "

"Just get me to Victoria." I say.

Alice swallows and nods.

"Get ready." She says.


	18. There Will Be Blood

Chapter 17

There will be blood

Alice brings the car to a halt, gearing down the car so it stops without screeching. She points.

"Coles bar. Look up" she says, and I am out the door, my feet pounding hard. A vault a chain fence and turn onto main street. There I see the the red neon of Cole's bar. I see a gathering of people outside making drunken conversation as one locks up the bar. Then, beyond I see Charlie walking from the door towards the carpark, his back away from me.

I see her. In the flash of the neon sign, tucked behind it on the roof, a white face glaring down. As in my dream, Victoria's face is framed with copper curls, blood red in the neon light. She moves slowly, stalking her prey. Stalking my father.

I lean in hard and get enough momentum to launch myself off a dumpster and onto the roof. I tackle the vampire as she is about to pounce, hurling us both through a shuttered window. I feel the glass tear at my scalp, but feel no pain, the vampire slams into floor inside, and I am on top of her.

A swipe of her arm and I am thrown back, colliding with, what I recognise as a pool table, a moment later. I roll back, my feet catching the low hanging lamp. I barely right myself before the vampire is on me, her claws at my throat, driving me back.

My uppercut sends her barrelling over me. She lands on her feet and turns to glare at me with deep red eyes. The swinging lamp and blinking neon throwing chaotic shadows about the room- the small pool room just above the bar.

We square off, Victoria circling me slowly.

I lunge, a feint, and she shys back, and my following punch sends her reeling. She look confused. Alice was right. This Victoria was reliant on her powers. She is glaring at me, disbelievingly, and I like it.

"Victoria. Right?" This throws her even more off guard. I close the distance and land a kick to her torso- my boot making a satisfying deep metallic thunk as it crushes vampiric flesh. "Hi. I'm Buffy."

Victoria slams violently against a pool table, the wood crunching under her marble hard body. She growls, looking for something she can use against me. With a sweep of her hand, several pool balls streak towards my face. I block, they shatter against my arm with a crack. The dust goes everywhere, and I feel particles get into my right eye. It tears up as I circle, blocking the window exit.

She is wearing ragged, autumn colored clothes, flecked with dired blood and dirt. Twigs and leaves stuck in her coiled hair. Strikingly beautiful, eyes vibrant blood red, with evil, tiny black pupils.

"What are you?" She growls.

"That would be telling." I grin, tapping a ball into a pocket, trying to look nonchalant. in truth, my forearm feels numb, the blood from the glass cuts seeming down my scalp and I am exhausted from running. "I am guessing it was you who ate those four townsfolk, right?"

"And so delicious they where too. Their life flows through my veins now. But... I won't eat you, pretty girl. You stink of wet dog."

"Give me a sec and smells won't be a problem for you at all."

We meet in the center of the room, fists and claws flying. She is clumsy, flailing wildly, unprepared to fight the unpredictable. I gasp as her filthy claws shred at my forearm, catching me with a lucky strike, a teeth rattling elbow to my jaw follows. I drop, sweeping out her legs, her skull smashes against a pool table, cracking the slate, but she rolls away fast before I can follow. I try to keep my moves strange, without rhythm or pattern.

Another strike lands on my jaw, spinning me, but I turn it into backfist. A satisfying metallic thunk as my knuckles shatter her cheekbone. She staggers, clutching her eye as I take up a strong fighting stance, ready for her.

"I will kill you slowly." She says. But she gasps, her eyes bulge and she staggers back. The pool cue I threw had impaled her like a spear.

"I won't." I say.

She releases a hissing scream as thick cracks start to form up her flesh, glowing red hot from within. Her body blackens as she staggers for me, claws raised.

My roundhouse kick takes off her head, spraying ashen chunks and sparks across the last undamaged table. The felt starts to catch fire as the remains of Victoria blaze away to little more than so much carbon.

I pat the little flames out. But it's no good. The table is ruined. I look around at the property damage we just caused. Yeah...Probably time to make an exit.

...

"Dad!" I shout as I jog over to catch him up.

He turns and looks confused for a moment before I wrap him up with a big hug.

"Buffy? What are you doing out?"

"Oh…" Think Summers. "Hope you don't mind… I insisted Leah give me a ride on her motorbike, soooo cool. Then I saw you and, well, I thought I could ride back with you in the cruiser. It's way too cold to be biking."

"Did you two have fun?"

"Well, I sure as hell did." I say, thinking about the how I had kicked Victoria's butt. "I hope she did too."

"Wait, you're bleeding. Did you crash? Did she hurt you?"

"I am?" Shoot. "Oh, no… I banged my head earlier. You know me, real clumsy. I didn't realise it was bleeding. Oh, look at that. Sheesh."

Charlie eyed me suspiciously, but my best goofy smile wins him over. Yay Buffy.

When we get home, I call Leah, just to see if she got home of course.

"Leah? Alice was right."

"Are you okay?"

"I am good. Victoria isn't though." I looked back at dad who was raiding the fridge. "We played pool, but she lost. Right on cue. Tell your folks she isn't gonna be coming over to dinner any more. Ever."

"So it's true? The story about what you are?"

"Is that… gonna be a problem? For us?"

"I hope not."

"Crazy first date, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Did Alice get home okay? To her family."

"I promised you, didn't I? I always keep my promises, Buffy."

"Gotta say, that does sound like excellent girlfriend material."

"Feels pretty good to date a legend. The whole thing has caused quite the stir among the pack, lemme tell you."

"Tell me what you are again?" I chuckle. I hear her grumbling down the line.

"Goodnight Buffy."

"It really was, Leah."

After hanging up the phone, and giving Charlie a very flushed smile, I head up to the bathroom to shower and tend to my injuries.

My dream wasn't prophetic, but it did involve a werewolf.


	19. Powderkeg

Chapter 18

Powderkeg

I feel forged anew as I stride into school the next day. My body sang, aching pleasantly, a reminder of a night holding many victories. I couldn't get the grin off my face if I tried.

When I awoke I didn't have a mark on my body, only the faintest row of lines on my arm from where Victoria has clawed my flesh. That was grin worthy enough, but the deep, and I mean bone deep, satisfaction of utterly destroying her just made me feel invincible.

And really horny. But… I would process that little gem later. Ooh, now I had a girlfriend to perhaps help me out on that front. Everything was looking better and better.

I assembled an outfit that fit my mood, dark leather pants, a sharply cut black top and the grey leather jacket from the night before, now pleasingly scuffed and weathered from action.

I wore makeup again, darker around the eyes- because it felt right.

I felt right.

And that really was it, wasn't it?

...

Jessica's jaw dropped when she saw me. She quickly fell into step beside me on the way to English.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Me? Oh, I killed a vampire with a pool cue and had sex with a werewolf."

She laughs brightly, and you chuckle along. "Well, you… look the part, but seriously Buffy, what the heck is going on with you lately?".

"Okay, but this is just between you and me?" She pulls you aside excitedly. "So, you know that thing that is completely ixnay? Never to be spoken of?" I said.

"And yet, here we are, again." She says grumpily, "Spoking".

"Jessica, I met someone. I am… dating someone. And she is a _she_."

"No… way." She says. "Who? Oh, my god, it isn't…" her voice lowers, "Alice Cullen?"

"Nuh-uh, it's not. Alice is just a friend… I… think, actually the jury is still out on that one. Waaay out. But, either way, it's not Alice. I don't think it would be right to say who she is until I check with her."

"So… you're like… a total lesbo now?"

"Don't say it like that, anyway I-"

"Wait! Have you slept with her? Oh my god, Buffy, you did!" She does this excited little dance with her feet whilst clapping her hands- It kinda reminds me of one of those wind up cymbal monkey toys.

"Jessica, breathe, you are gonna burst a vessel." I say, putting my arm around her shoulder and guiding us towards class. "Full disclosure as per best friend agreement in due course, preferably over a box of hot doughnuts, she strongly hints." I say, overly dramatically.

"Do I know her? Is she hot?"

"Doughnuts." I warn.

…

Gym was also satisfying. And I had to congratulate myself on not showing off at all. Well, maaaaaybe a little bit. But seeing as I broke the crappy old basketball backboard (with a suitably jaw dropping dunk, mind you), I had learnt my valuable lesson- I had to stay back to clean up the mess.

As I get to the communal showers Jessica is still there, soaping down her body as she sings to herself. Her voice is so beautiful, it stop me in my tracks. I lean against the tiles and enjoy.

Her song finished, I applaud.

"Are you perving at me Swan?" She says, flushing red.

"Nuh uh." I said, "see, this is me, not even looking." I soap my face and rinse myself off under the shower head. I could hear her chuckle behind me. "Besides… been there, done that."

I let the thrown soap hit my head. It was only fair.

"You ever think about what you are gonna do after this? You could be a singer with a voice like that." I say.

"Me? I never really… mom wants me to take over the family business like she did when gram died."

"Is that what you want?"

Jessica shrugs. "You said it yourself. Forks sucks. Like a black hole."

"You could always leave. Go see the world." I said.

My thoughts turned to Diana coming to get me; of the Quileute story about the white man who took away Death's Gift to where she was needed. Did Diana plan to take me away from Forks?

I realised then that I had started to find my place in Forks, to like it, even. I guess Leah was a big part of that, but it went deeper. I felt it as I ran through the forest, the deep scents of the soil and the air. The easy patter of rain on a roof. The wilderness had gotten into my blood.

I pictured myself in a cheap motel in a city out there, weapons scattered on the bed, washing blood out of my clothes in a sink, wondering if next time I wouldn't duck in time. I felt a weight start to press down on my chest.

I tried to picture the kill last night, the bloody neon lit face of Victoria as she realised I would win. I felt a twinge of desire creep into my groin, but it was seedy, tainted somehow. A dark arousal for a killer girl. I pictured the thrust of a stake into a waiting heart.

"You okay?" Jessica said. "Are you sick again?"

I shook my head and gave her the best smile I could.

…

Mike, Jessica and the- er- other persons-who-I-really-should-learn-names-of, sat at our usual lunch table. However, as I drew close to put my tray down I looked up to see Alice Cullen sitting alone at the far end of the hall. Her golden eyes fixed on mine.

I crossed the room, well aware of the many eyes on me as I did so, and sat at her table, facing her.

I quietly set about unwrapping and eating my meal. She waited for me to speak.

"So, did you see it all in your visions, or do I have to fill you in on what happened?" I say, sipping at my drink.

"You were amazing." she said, her pale fingers toying with an apple. She looked sad.

"Thank you." I said, reaching out and stopping the apple, my hand settling over hers. It was uncomfortably cold. I pull my hand back. "For saving Charlie."

She nods again, glancing back over my shoulder, at what I guess is Jessica's expression.

"Leah said she kept her promise." I say. "Did she?"

"She did. Still, there was a bit of a showdown at the boundary. A big debate. We settled matters, for now.", her yellow eyes look over my outfit. "This looks really good on you."

"I am not lunch, Alice." I say, and take her can of drink.

"What? You gonna drink it?" I say "Can you even eat real food anyway?"

She smiled, her perfect brow quirked. "Can you eat cardboard?"

"Hmmm." I say, and crack the can open. "So what was your last meal. Really?"

"A racoon." She said, sounding rather embarrassed.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Don't be an asshole, you know what I meant."

"Actually, I was kinda hoping you could help with that. In your vision… you said I was called Mary Brandon. It felt… right... it… can you tell me anything else?" She looked at me expectantly.

"You really don't remember anything?"

"Bits. Nothing useful. I have no idea where I come from, or who I was. I don't even know my birthday. I just picked April 6th so I can have a party."

"It was an asylum, with strait jackets... it stank. You and the… one who made you… spoke with a kinda of… Mississippi southern accent I guess. That's it. That's all I have for you."

I slowly chug down her soda, and place the can back on her tray.

"My family want to meet you. Properly." she says. She offers me her apple. I shake my head.

"What for?"

"Well, Esme wants to apologise, I know that. Carlisle's fascinated by your healing. But I guess, it would be good to clear the air."

"No." I say. Leaning back in my chair, looking over the vampire in the cold light of day. "We are even. What happened… it hurt. So, no."

I stand and go dump the rest of my tray. She follows me, nervously.

"Are… you and I…?"

"Friends? Do think that could ever be possible? Being what we both are?"

"I don't know. But I know what we choose determines our future. We could choose to try?" She says.

"You want to be my friend? Is that all that you want?" I say, and lift my wrist to her nose.

She blinks, looking away.

"Sorry. That wasn't fair. I... just… give me some time to think it over Alice." I said.

I felt my throat turn to marble as I walk away from Alice. My eyes reddened but I wouldn't let tears fall. Not here.

Alice had risked her life to save my father, showered me with generous gifts and compliments, she had told me the truth as soon as she knew it, or so she said. She had done nothing herself to hurt me, unlike her mother- but even still, her intentions sounded, if not noble, certainly less fatal for me.

I felt terrible.

Be that as it may, and bizarre though the facts where, Alice Cullen was a vampire, and I was a vampire slayer, dating a shape changer who was her sworn enemy.

Worse still, now that I could freely acknowledge my desires to myself, I knew that I was deeply, hopelessly attracted to Alice Cullen.

And she? Well, above all, she hungered for my blood.

It was a powderkeg. I was right to walk away.

I thought of my new Watcher, Diana, arriving in the next two days. Maybe me leaving was for the best, after all.

…

I lay in bed thinking the day over. Part of me wished I had never reached out to The Watcher's Council. But I knew that was selfish of me. Like Death' Gift and the girls who came before me, I had a duty. And that duty would take from here. My thoughts turned to the dream of the porcelain doll vampire and the Boston Slayer.

Whatever happened, I felt the clock was ticking down.

I had to do something.

I slipped on my clothes, grabbed my stake and leap silently from my window.

I ran out into the night.

...

Author Notes:

Well dear readers, are you Team Alice, Team Leah or even Team Jessica?

Me? I just can't decide.

Love to read your comments so far.

Apologies for the typos, I don't have an editor and I am writing this on my crappy phone.

xxx

DarKade


	20. The Burning

Chapter 19

The Burning

The grand old house sits amongst the dark firs, ghostly white in the moonlight. From this side, it appears to be three stories high and hundreds of years old. But that's just the facade and I know what lies inside isn't what one would expect. Much like the family that own it.

As I make my way around the left side of the house, I pass a large open garage containing a row of luxury cars. I can hear the faint ticking of an engine cooling in the chill night air.

My crude stake is in my left hand, point down, ready.

The rear of the house is every bit as breathtaking as I remember. Through the glass wall The lighting shines warm off the polished wood. I see the great spiral staircase and grand piano, and beyond, deeper in the house, the unused kitchen, the glimmer of candles off polished steel.

Alice is sitting at the countertop, head tilted down, her fingers at her temples. She looks in pain. I enter through the open sliding doors and cautiously close in on her.

"Can you just decide already? It's making me dizzy." She says, not looking up.

I sit down next to her, resting my hands on the cool metal, my stake still firmly grasped in my left hand. I recognize the tormented, distant look on Alice's features for it is so much like my own after a vision tears me from my sleep. I doubt Alice ever needs to sleep, but still, she seems exhausted, resigned.

"What was it supposed to be like?" I ask. "You said it wasn't supposed to be like this. What did you see?"

Her face contorts and she sobs silently, her delicate hand pressed to her eyes. No tears fall.

My decision has been made, and I cannot see myself rolling back on it. I place the stake on the countertop and push it away from me.

"Please tell me Alice." I say softly.

She shudders and begins to sob anew. Against my better judgement, I reach for her and draw her slight body into an embrace. Her face is against my breast, mewling pathetically.

"What were you waiting so long for?"

Part of me knew she could be lying, it stood to reason, The Cullens lived with subterfuge every moment of their lives. That part of me said my back was exposed. That my weakness- my desire for this girl- my sympathy- was being exploited, and that any moment the fatal blow would come.

But the greater part of me saw a girl in pain. A girl who somehow fought her nature, fought temptation every day for countless years to retain some semblance of humanity. A girl chased by a monster, driven mad, only to find cruel death at the hands of a lesser monster.

A girl whose dreams had been shattered by fate.

"What did you see Alice?"

"You." She says faintly. "Always you."

My own tears began to well up. I lift her face towards mine, and look into her deep amber eyes, at her innocent, haunted eyes.

I kiss her then. Its meaning starts as a gentle apology, but she pulls me in, adding her own meaning until it grows into a mutual story of desire.

Her cool lips are tender, soothing the heat of mine. Her fingers wipe a tear from my cheek. She doesn't need to breathe, but she draws in a long gasping breath as I place kisses on her cheek, her ear lobe, her neck. Is it the memory of a breath, or a reflex? She moans lightly as my teeth nip at her pulse point.

"Please stop." She whispers. I draw back, her pupils are now coal black, the candle flames flicker in them. She presses her hand at my sternum, her arm locked rigid. She is panting now. "Buffy you smell, so so good."

"Fight it." I whisper- an order, not a request.

Her eyes flutter shut, and her breathing stills. She seems frozen in time, a statue. Then, she draws in a slow, low breath through her nose. I place my hand over hers, feeling her fingers warmed against my body.

"Fight it."

She is trembling now. She takes in another breath, and grits her teeth.

"Now look at me."

Her eyes flick open, pupils dark gold.

"Kiss me again." I whisper.

She slowly leans in to kiss my lips, but now my hand is at her chest holding her back.

"No. Here" I point to my throat. Alice looks terrified. I relax my arm, allowing her to close the distance, but she does not. Her eyes are locked on my vein.

"Do it." I whisper.

Slowly, hesitantly, she leans in, I can feel her body gently shake against my fingertips. I feel her breath on my neck once more, and close my eyes, tilting my head back. She lingers for a moment longer.

Her mouth is on my neck. She sucks gently, her lips velvety. I feel a deep vibration as she groans, like I am the most delicious thing she has ever tasted. I feel the sharp edge of her teeth gazing against my flesh, but she does not bite.

I grip the hair at the back of her head firmly and pull her away. Alice's expression is beatific, she draws in a breath and that gorgeous, perfect smile spreads across her face. The tongue wets her lips, I see the ivory white tips of tiny fangs as she does. Her eyes flutter open, golden and so filled with pride.

I lean in and kiss her again, deeply. Her arms lace around my neck and she leans back as I hold her, giving way to me, accommodating my need.

"Buffy." She says softly. "I have waited for you. I have thought of you for every day I can remember."

"Has the future shifted?"

Something about the flutter of her eyes makes me think there is more to the future than she lets on. I guess paranoia is a bad habit of mine, or perhaps a survival instinct.

"I… guess we will find out soon enough."

…

Alice drives fast regardless of danger. The ride home would have been a white knuckle experience for anyone else, but I somehow knew I could trust her - she had control.

I have so many things rolling around inside me at the moment, I honestly don't know how to feel. I know that Alice Cullen is in love with me, and has been as long as she could remember. She never explicitly voiced this, but I knew. Every interaction we had, it was based on this confidence she had gained from her visions.

That was a huge revelation in an of itself, but now as events she had waited her entire lifetime drew near, things where veering dangerously, and she was losing her grip.

I felt personally responsible for this, as it had been my decisions that steered the future. And that decision, or at least, one of those decisions, has been Leah.

I felt ashamed. Leah and I had only just started our romance, and had shared not just our bodies but our deepest secrets with each other. Barely a day in, and I had broken the trust she had given to me by kissing, of all people, her sworn enemy. The thing that she had been created by her people's magics to fight.

Like me. Leah and I shared so much understanding in that regard. We were shaped to be hunters, warriors; our heart beat for the chase and we revelled in victory. It was primal, savage, strong. And she protected me, in her arms I was safe.

Or was. Until I stabbed her in the back.

Alice was a vampire. Regardless of her romantic visions and my deep, unhealthy desire for her, she was dangerous, pure and simple. One slip of her will, and whatever notions of a relationship we could have would vanish in a blood frenzy.

Gazing across at Alice as she drove me home, I couldn't help but see the vampire at my side. How could a Slayer ever love a vampire?

Did I love Alice?

I had no answer to that. I was sixteen, nearly seventeen. What did I know of love?

What I did know was that I had cheated on Leah. And that shame burned in me.

Alice slowed down, then pulled the car off the road into a gateway that lead to a neighboring property. I could walk from here without alerting Charlie.

She turned off the engine and sat silently.

"I don't know what to do." I said. She nodded, sadly.

"I can't decide for you." She said. "And I can't see how this is going to go, which is weird. I guess this is what it must be like for everyone else."

"How can we have a future?" I sigh. "Alice, my new Watcher is coming to Forks tomorrow. I think she is going to take me away from here."

"Watcher?"

"They find and train Slayers, prepare us for our short, cruel, violent goddamned cursed lives." I growl, hitting the dashboard.

"You don't like being The Slayer?" She said.

"I like the power. When I kill." I confess. "That's wrong, isn't it?"

Alice doesn't comment. She hesitantly takes my hand in hers, stroking her smooth fingers across the knuckles.

"It won't help." She says. I was thinking about running far, far away, from Forks, from The Watchers, from everything.

"Thought it was Edward that read thoughts." I say bitterly.

"I have empathy, you know."

"Merrick told me vampires don't have empathy. That you can't. Because your soul is gone and a demon takes control."

"That's a load of crap." She says, threading her fingers through mine. "You are just... you. But with the hunger. You just choose to give in, do what your body is screaming at you to do, or be true to your humanity. All humans are a just few skipped meals away from demons."

"I guess they say that so we find it easier to kill you." I say.

"First time I staked a vampire… it was a girl. Freshly risen from the grave. I took away that choice from her." I say. "Mind you, to be fair she was trying to eat me at the time."

"I can't fault her for that." she snickers.

I laugh too. It seems bizarre that scarcely a year later from Merrick taking me to that graveyard, I am sitting in a car, in the middle of nowhere, holding a vampires hand.

"You should probably get home." She says. She offers me my stake. I hadn't realised she had picked it up from the counter.

"I… can't be with you. Can I?" I say, flatly.

"I can't see how." She sighs.

"I hate this."

"Me too."

I take the stake from her hand, open the car door and step out into the chill night air. Alice watches me. I hesitate to close the door.

"I really wanted to go shopping in Seattle with you." I say.

Her laugh feels like it is framed with sadness.

"Goodbye Buffy."

"Goodbye Alice."


	21. Just Fade Away

Chapter 20

Just Fade Away

I showered when I got home. Lost in my thoughts, I stood motionless under the scorching stream. The hot water tank must have emptied, for the water quickly turned ice cold. I jolted back to my senses, and went to cut off the water, but as my hand neared the tap I found myself consumed by the idea of testing my will.

The water stung it was so cold, my muscles shaking, my tormented body begging me to step out. I thought of Alice, trembling in my arms.

There was a loud knock on the bathroom door.

"Buff? You okay in there?" Charlie's voice said, sounding concerned.

"I'm okay dad." I said, cutting off the water.

"Well, okay. I… just worry about you." He said.

I wrap myself in a towel. My body is so pale it was practically blue, the blood vessels in my skin tightly constricted against the cold.

I open the door a crack.

"Hi dad. It's okay. I was just shaving my legs. You have no idea how long it takes. You just have that little bit to worry about." I said, waving my finger at his mouth area.

"I guess." He said. "Why so late?"

"Couldn't sleep. Just bugging me s'all."

"Your mom called, she was worried about you- she said you hadn't phoned her since you got here."

"Oh. I didn't really have much to say to her, I guess. What did she say?"

"Well, she was pretty upset. She said she and Hank are getting a divorce."

That hits me pretty hard. I had been so wrapped up in my own issues I just assumed she was out there, doing okay. I didn't even realize they were having problems. I felt more shame piling up on my stack.

"Oh." I manage. "Is it okay if I call her in the morning?"

"Of course. Her new number and address is next to the phone." He says. "She asked if you were dating someone and I kinda dodged the question. I didn't tell her about Leah. Figured that is something for you to talk about."

My heart fell further. Poor Leah.

"Do… you think she will be okay? With me being… you know."

"Buffy she loves you, so much. I know she has a funny kinda way of expressing it, but she does. I am sure she will be fine."

I nod awkwardly. Charlie doesn't hover, he bids me goodnight and leaves me to my misery.

My shame seems written everywhere in my room. Framed against stark white, the objects there stand out. Alice's clothes hanging on Leah's frame. The twisted black metal mirror, made especially for me, holds my reflection, but I don't want look at it. Next to my bed is a crude stake. There are no pictures in my room. Not of mom, or of any friends. Just linen white walls and painful things.

I sit on my bed and draw my knees up to my chin, hugging my arms around them. My flesh is cold, my fingers puckered and rough against my skin. I feel like crying, but I don't deserve to, do I?

All this was my doing.

…

Mom doesn't answer the phone when I call her the next morning. Her new address is written on a scrap of paper: 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale C.A.

I leave a short message on her answering machine.

"Hi mom, it's me. Buffy. I tried to reach you. I'll try again later."

...

After breakfast, Charlie headed off to the station whilst I washed up.

My stomach was scrunched up into a knot of anxiety, I had no desire to go to school, the day could only get worse. I knew last night would be the last time I ever saw Alice. The thought of seeing that Alice shaped gap at school tore at my heart.

There was a knock at the door. I cautiously opened it.

The woman was in her late thirties with shoulder length blonde hair, somewhat nordic features and large green eyes. She wore small glasses with stylish frames, a long orange skirt over black stockings and boots, and a deep green sweater over a crisp white collared blouse. Her hand rests on the strap of a large shoulder sling bag.

"Buffy Summers?" she says, her accent is unfamiliar, Swedish perhaps? "Diana Cronquist." She says, extending a hand energetically. I am rather stunned that she is here, on my doorstep, and end up just staring awkwardly at her hand. It may as well have been a lobster holding a paintbrush.

She pulls her hand back awkwardly and clears her throat.

"You, spoke to me on the computer."

"My new Watcher?" I say. She beams and nods. She has freckles.

"Uh… sorry, I forget my manners, do come in."

"Should I take off my shoes?" she says.

"No, that's fine."

She strides into the house and spins on her heels, taking in the room.

"This is your pops?" She says, pointing at the picture of Charlie and my mom holding baby me.

"My dad. Charlie. He just left."

"Handsome. Ooooooh, and look at little you. So cute."

"Uh, sorry…"

"Diana".

"Yes, Diana, I am… this is all a bit much. I am still processing that you are really here."

"Me too. Weird isn't it?" She says, her green eyes locking on to mine. "I just passed a car with a cougar tied on the roof. An actual cougar."

Diana is looking at the kitchen now, like it holds some great clue to a mystery.

"Uh… so what happens now?"

"That depends on you." She says, turning to look at me with a elfish grin. "I would want that we go eat. I want to try buffalo wings."

"You know they aren't actually made from buffalo, right?"

She smiles and nods happily, her eyes flicking around the room. She feels like the sort of woman who is constantly humming songs to herself inside.

"Diana, I have to go to school."

"School?" She looks bemused. "Not today. There are more important things."

"There are?"

"Yes, like me trying buffalo wings and then… working out what we are going to do with you Miss Summers."

"Swan. It's Swan now."

"Hmmm? Let's go eat. I am starved."

…

Diana's rental is a brand new white 4x4. It has that new car smell as I climb in. We both seem tiny in the seats. She slings her bag into the backseat and I hear a familiar wooden rattle.

She pulls out rather too quickly, and heads the car back into town.

"Your real name isn't Buffy Summers on the records. It is still Elizabeth Swan." She says, matter of factly. "I couldn't find you after Merrick stopped reporting in. He was never good with the whole communication thing."

"Yeah, he was rather… quirky." I say.

"I could not stand the man. Going round all lurking, smelling like the mothballs. I thought you dead or turned. But… you killed Lothos. Well done you."

She takes a corner a bit hard and overshoots a little, I feel glad she chose a sturdy offroader. She merely sticks her tongue out the side of her mouth and pulls an expression like she is a child at a funfare.

"So what happens now?"

"Simple. We pick-up where Merrick left off. Train you properly. We just need to know where he left you."

She pulls up into town by Jessica's mom's cafe, breaking a little hard so we jolt forqard. Her bag rattles again as she grabs it up.

"So. Are you coming, Buffy Swan?"

…

Diana hates Buffalo wings it turns out, and after a mouthful she winces and pushes the whole basket toward me.

"Helvete da. No. No good. All for you." She says. "You look like you haven't been eating."

I shrug, and take one of wings. It doesn't look very appealing, but I take a bite anyway.

"Your dad does not know?" She says, blowing her hair out of her face as she looks through the menu.

"No. Well, not that it's all real. As far as he knows, I just had a mental break during high school and started imagining stuff. They put me in… mental hospital for a while."

"You told them about us?"

I felt uncomfortable with her gaze, and turned my attention back to the wings.

"That is okay" she shrugs. "They won't believe anyway. We just make the records go "poof". Easy fix."

Such a strange woman. Not at all what I expected. I had in my mind a stern English woman with a serious librarian vibe. Diana Cronquist looked more like a college girl, bookish but with a sense of lightness, creativity. I just couldn't picture her in her little pointy boots, loping through graveyards and hammering stakes into undead. But, I guess, I didn't exactly come across as all Victor VanHelsing myself.

"So, how does this work? Do I tell Charlie who you are?".

Diana looks at me over her glasses with her piercing green eyes, her freckled face still.

"Anyone you tell the truth to is in danger. You know this."

"So what? Hey, dad, oh don't mind Diana, she is just my Swedish nanny, she is gonna be teaching me kung-fu?"

"Don't be ridiculous. And I'm Norwegian. Mostly. A quarter Swedish. But, the simple answer is we don't need to tell him anything."

"By making me go "poof" too?" I say.

She smiles and looks back at the menu. "How do you like the idea of Italy?"

"As a concept?"

"As a new home."

"I… don't think I can just disappear Diana. Charlie and Mom… they…"

"I know, Buffy. But…"

"I am The Slayer. I think I get the deal."

"It's beautiful. The old cities. The culture. The food is amazing. The men so handsome. Just, think of it as a gap year… only… permanent."

I dumped the wing back into the basket.

"It's okay Diana. You don't need to sugar coat it. I go where people need me." I sigh and look out the window, across the lake, framed about with lush green forest. The morning mists are rising.

I think of mom, in a new town, alone, recently divorced, the news of her troubled daughter's disappearance, the days stretching to weeks, to years. No grave to mourn. Photos of me fading slowly on the mantle.

Of Charlie, unshaven, leading search after search for me into the wilderness, the search party getting smaller and smaller as hope of finding me slowly dies away.

I try not to think of Alice and Leah. Because I knew I could not stop from crying if I did.

I almost ask Diana if they can somehow fake my death so that everyone can have peace. I can picture her shrugging and nodding like it is nothing at all, but somehow it felt like I would be signing the death warrant on some innocent teenage girl out there, whose only crime was being my height and weight. I wondered what lengths The Watchers went to keep their secrets.

"Buffy?" Diana says, drawing my attention back.

"Okay." I say. "When do we leave?"

She flipped the menu over again without looking up.

"As soon as I find us both something decent to eat."


	22. Swan Song

Chapter 21

Swan Song

I packed a single suitcase, taking the more practical fighting clothes from my wardrobe. It took scarcely twenty minutes to do. I slipped on my black faux leather pants, a black blouse and the grey leather jacket- all courtesy of the vampire who loved me.

I gave a final look around my room. The smell of the new paint hung thick in the air.

Diana was sitting at the table, reading a brightly colored novel, the knuckle of her free hand in her mouth, absentmindedly chewing it. She didn't look up.

"Ready?"

I sat down opposite her. She pushed a pad of paper with a pen towards me.

I took a deep breath and wrote a goodbye message. When I am done, Diana reads it over.

"What does that last bit mean?" She asks. "Who is Leah?"

"Leah is… _was_… my girlfriend." I say, and sniff back a tear that was threatening to fall.

"You can't leave any clues, Buffy."

"It's not a clue. It's private. A romantic Quileute story. It's our way of saying..." I breathe out a shuddery breath.

She eyes me warily.

"Can we just go?" I say, wiping my face.

Diana nods, walks me out the door. It is raining lightly. I look back at the scene Charlie will find. A notepad and a pen, sitting on his table in the house that never changed. I wonder if that's where mom left her dear john.

I lock up, and put the key up in the eaves, then slosh over to where Diana waits. She puts my suitcase in the back whilst I climb into the passenger chair.

I don't look back.

...

Diana flips on the radio as we make our way towards Port Angeles and hums along to the music. I knew she was a hummer.

The rain is falling still, the grey sky is low and thick in patches with dark clouds. Now and then, the midday sun breaks through and the light sets the forest aglow in gloriously vibrant, living greens.

The beat of the windscreen wipers is out of sync to the radio, and I want to rip them off and throw them into the wilderness.

I glance at Diana, who, despite her attempts to stay cheerful, seems painfully aware of what she just had a teenage girl do to her family. She doesn't look at me, just tries her best to remember the lyrics of the songs, and fails.

"Why become a Watcher?" I ask.

"Because I had to." She says, then keeps humming.

"Why?" I ask again, unsatisfied. She looks at me now, a mere flash of an upset look before she hides it once more.

"Because someone has to. And I couldn't trust anyone else to do it better than me." She said, her words clipped and strange to my ear.

"Why?"

She lets out a deep breath. "A vampire killed my family. Two big sisters. Mother. Not my pops though. He died a long time back." I noticed it then, the scarring on her neck, just hidden behind the high, stiff collar. They were bites- so many bites- spread wide, she was very young at the time.

I imaged the scene, a vampire trapping a family somewhere remote. The days that followed. I shiver.

"So revenge." I say.

She waves her hand. "Already done. It isn't as satisfying as the cowboy films make out." She turns off the radio. "No, not for revenge. If I can stop things like what happened from happening to anyone else? That is why I do this. That is why we do this."

I nodded.

"You and me? We are going to wipe them all out, yes?" She smiled, slapping her hand onto my shoulder.

"Am I your first?"

"No. And yes. I trained two potential slayers and started on a third when you reached me. But they were never called, like you. When they got to eighteen- too old. We have birthday party, kiss goodbye and off I go to the next. Tove and Erica. Good girls. We stay in touch."

I smile at the notion. Somewhere out there are two girls who made it.

"Are there many potentials and watchers?"

"I can't tell you." She shrugs.

"In case I get turned?"

"I don't know myself. In case I get turned."

Of course, Diana was out there in the trenches with me now. Her life expectancy was as good as mine. Perhaps even worse.

I felt sorry for Diana. Thanks to my dreams, I knew the clock was ticking down for me. She didn't.

I thought of doll faced vampires in long flowing cloaks and Alice's hand in mine.

…

_Dad, Mom,__I know you may never understand why I have to leave. I tried so hard to start over. But the truth is I am still sick, and it is only getting worse. I cannot stand the thought of you watching me decline further, just as much as I cannot stand the idea of going back to that place._

I_ am grateful for everything you ever did for me. Please don't look for me. I never want to be found._

_I love you both._

_Goodbye_

_Your daughter,__Buffy._

_P.S I am sorry Leah, it ends for me just like the girl in your story. X_


	23. Final Destination

Chapter 22

Final Destination

Official records would show that Elizabeth Anne Swan crossed into Canada via Ferry, taking a route from Port Angeles to Victoria, then on to Vancouver. That would be her final destination as far as records would show. From there, she would simply disappear.

Forever.

Diana and I stayed in a small hotel in the city for two weeks waiting for The Watchers Council to make the arrangements. My hotel room was quaint enough, with canary yellow walls and plenty of space. But Diana insisted I keep inside, which was no hardship to me, as the weather outside was awful the entire time. When we ventured out, it was to dine at one of the many nearby restaurants Diana wanted to try. It seemed strange to me that she was always eager and excited by these culinary adventures, but she always seemed dissapointed with her meal.

The time passed slowly. At first I spent a great deal of it sat on the couch in my room, hugging Mr.Gordo to my chest and just staring out the window. In my mind, I kept running over the events of my time in Forks; Not just the horrors, but the good memories as well. I think those are the ones that hurt the most.

I thought of the peace and calm I found in Esme's mothering eyes, the babbling wall of water, the freedom as I ran through the forest, the taste of coffee by the fireside on that chilly night and Jessica's blushes and giggles.

And in the times when I gave way to my lust and let my hand satisfy my need, I remembered Leah's beautiful eyes fluttering shut as she came for me, the feel of her breasts rubbing against mine, the working of her muscular pelvis, and my tongue finding her scorching, musky heat. But every time I came, it would be to the memory of Alice's lips on my throat.

My dreams where often erotic, sometimes prophetic, or a disjointed juxtaposition of both as memory and vision fed back into my poor, aching mind.

The dreams of the later nights became woven of pure gothic horror. Always set in darkened stone vaults and passages of ancient yellowed stone. Vibrant, vivid blood flowing like wine into golden chalices. I saw wicked red eyes and fanged grins.

Above all, I saw the doll face girl over and over, her face closer to mine each time, until it grew intimate. In the last dream, she tilts her head back to my shoulder in ecstacy and I watched a line of thick, vibrant blood roll slowly down the throat onto her pale, marble breast. All the while, I felt the burning urge to lick it from her icy flesh.

I dreamt too of a girl dressed in black with brown hair with a wicked grin, who sometimes was me. I saw the crashing of waves far below me and heard a woman sobbing, the sound so familiar it made me shudder most of all.

From these dreams I would wake with my blood on fire, forcing me to pace my room or exercise my body hard, punching the air, working my muscles; anything to shake free from the insufferable fear.

It felt like a call to arm myself. To be ready for the war to come.

Because that is what my life was now, wasn't it?

I am Death's Gift.

...

Our limbo came to an end abruptly. Diana knocked on my door at four in the morning, rousing me with strong coffee. By six we were drinking even more coffee at Vancouver airport waiting.

I looked at the passport she had given me again and cringed.

"Sydney Rutledge?" I groan. "Do I look like a Sydney to you?"

"We don't get to pick the names. It just so happens that this girl's passport was available. It has to match your age, nationality and have the visas we need."

"Is your name really Diana?"

"Yes it is, Sydney. Now eat your sandwiches."

"Her middle name is Orion. Who the hell is this chick?"

"A very annoying Slayer. We can get you another passport in Europe if it means that much to you. Fæn." She checks her watch for the fifth time. Diana doesn't do patience, or sitting still without a book to distract her. During our exile, she has managed to get through at least ten novels that I have seen, in four languages. She purchased two more a few minutes ago at the airport bookstore. I pictured her home as a cottage in the woods, entirely built from books.

"You know Diane, it says here my birthday is in three days. Do I get a present?" I say.

"Sure. What do you want?"

_A long life. My parents to be happy. Alice Cullen._

"A pony." I sigh, and let my head roll back. I was antsy. Diana chuckles.

"Come on Sydney, we should get many, many snacks for the trip." She tucks her books into her sling bag. I grab my suitcase and follow.

"It can be a really small pony. I don't mind."

…

It was the night cycle of the plane, and I was wide awake. Outside my window was an endless sea of cloud, barely visible in the darkness. It looked like a snow landscape.

Diana and I did not sit together. I had a window exit seat so could easily stretch and pace. I sat next to a matronly Italian woman who spoke no English and her daughter, who was a little older than me. She ignored me with a sneer. The unwarranted hatred between us mutual. She snored like a boar.

As I looked about the plane, It was finally sinking in that I was actually flying to Italy. I was on a plane, using a fake passport, and flying to Europe to battle the forces of darkness for a secret organization. This was actually my life now. It felt pretty surreal.

I imagined telling this to the registrar back at the psych ward, then maybe following it up with fact I had been caught in a love triangle between a vampire and a werewolf.

I decided to try and get some sleep. In less than 6 hours I would be landing at Pisa Airport (not pizza, Diana corrected me several times) then catching a connection to our final destination: the ancient, historical town that would be my new home.

Volterra.


	24. To All The Girls

Chapter 23

To All The Girls

I had the romantic notion that it would be hot in Italy, a foolish assumption, for it was well into December now. As we left the chauffeured car that brought us from the airport, the air was chill and I was grateful for Alice's grey turtleneck and jacket. I kept my free hand balled up in my pocket, and followed Diana's brisk pace.

"At least it's not tourist season." She says as we made our way through the winding, medieval streets. "Annoying bastards. It's constant… 'Excuse me miss. Can you take a photo of us'. Bastards".

As we get to a particular two story building and Diana tries to remember the code to punch in, I glance back over the crumbling stone walls of the town. The sun is low now, setting, the dying light around me soft, buttery, tinged vivid peach.

I watch the most magnificent sunset I have ever seen.

Diana has the security gate open now, but she was holding it, waiting for me. She gives me a smile, and we head on up into the apartment.

…

Inside the air is dusty and stale. Diana mutters to herself as she unbolts rather stubborn windows throws open the shutters, letting light and fresh air into the space.

It is much larger than it appeared to you from the exterior, about twice the space of Charlie's house, but quite narrow. All of the furniture is ornate, antique and is covered in dust sheets, which Diana sets about peeling away.

The main area of the apartment is a combined kitchen and dining area, with a set of steps leading down to a space that probably was several rooms long ago, but the walls had been removed. As Diana goes about her task, she reveals gym gear, a pommel horse, punch bags, weapon racks and a well worn mu ren zhuang dummy made of deep red wood.

I pick up a stake from the rack, twirl it and test it's balance. Diana grins at this, and I realise it is the first time she has seen me doing anything Slayer-y at all. Had she taken everything on trust that I was The Slayer? Or did the Watchers have some innate gift or spell which let them see us for what we are?

I look at the stake in my hand, and, as I put it back down, I think of Alice in the kitchen.

Diana beckons me with her finger, and leads me up a stairway with peeling plaster walls to the second (third?) floor.

"I am taking this one, so… this is for you" she gestures at a door. "Don't be too long unpacking, there are many, many restaurants around here- even off season."

She winks at me, enters her room and closes a creaky old door behind her.

My room is small, but looks out over a quiet plaza. I can hear a distant bell on the still evening air. I find bed linen in an old slatted cupboard and make up the double bed, which is a sturdy affair with ornately carved headboard and posts. Six year old me would have imagined me a princess upon it.

As I unpacked my clothes into the small wardrobe, I noticed something carved crudely into the faded plaster of the wall.

_Hello to The One Girl In All The World- signed- one of the girls you see in your dreams. X_

...

Diana groans with joy as she sucks back the pasta, then she hums a little tune as she washes it down with wine. _Finally_.

The restaurant is small, quiet and most importantly, warm. I get Diana to order for me, as I was too mentally exhausted to wrestle with deciphering Italian tonight. Whatever it was okay, I guess.

"The wine is good, would you like a glass?" She asks.

"Diana, I am sixteen." I say, to which she chuckles.

"Therefore legal for wine. You are not in America anymore Buffy." She signals the waitress and says something in Italian to her. The waitress chuckles and fetches another glass for me.

"Why here?" I say. She swallows another mouthful and nods at your question approvingly.

"No vampire attacks" she says. "Ever." I seem suitably incredulous. "Local tradition says Saint Marcus drove them away. There is a huge festival celebrating it and everything. No 'wild dog' attacks, no murders, no disappearances, no one 'accidentally falling on their barbecue forks'. Nothing."

"So why bring a vampire Slayer to a place with no vampires."

"See, when I was twenty, I lived in this cool share house. My flatmates never locked the doors, or their cars, it was strange to me. They just didn't seem to care that anything would be stolen. So, one day I ask them. Why? Why do you not fear such things? You know what was said?"

"Creepy if I did" I say.

"they said, the house behind us was the headquarters of a notorious gang of very dangerous criminals. Really dangerous. So… no crime in the area. Not. One. Bit."

She smiles and nods, jabbing the air that her point was made. She pours me a glass of wine and I watch the deep ruby liquid with curiosity.

"There are no vampire attacks in Volterra." She says, and raises her glass to me.

"Salute!" She says, softly, her freckled nose wrinkling, and she chinks her glass to mine.

It feels like a crime still, but I drink down the wine. It is delicious, so I ask for another.

…

I had never seen Diana drunk before, but she falls firmly into the 'fun drunk' category, she staggers a bit as we walk the streets, laughing at her own clumsiness.

As for myself, I find the wine has really relaxed me, and I feel a mellowness that cuts through my sadness. If anything, I was maddeningly horny. As we drank I found myself staring more and more at the waitress, who would have been in her early twenties- her graceful, long, olive neck all made all the more alluring with a tight black choker. I think she must have caught me staring, because she seemed uncomfortable serving me, never looking me in the eye, rushing away.

When we get to the gate, it is left to me to punch in the code. I look at Diana expectantly.

"Uccisore" she says. "No, two "cs"... damn it… here… U… C… C… I… S...O...R...E"

"Is that italian for Open Sesame?"

"For us, yes." She winks, and drags me inside.

Diana is pressed against me as we enter the tight corridor, her body warm, rubbing a delicious friction against my breast. I feel the blood rush to my groin, and scrunch my eyes shut. I had no interest in Diana usually. As undeniably beautiful as she was, with her viking-esque features and full green eyes, she was twice my age, and it had never occurred to me to think of her that way. She certainly never gave any sign of being a sexual creature at all. I never caught her glancing at anyone or talking about her past relationships. I felt dirty for finding myself pleasured against her, and pulled away a little. It was wrong. She was my Watcher.

"Okay. I go pass out now. Good night Buffy." She places a peck against the top of my head then enters her room. There is a thunk as she flops on her bed. She wasn't kidding.

I enter what is now my room and close the door behind me, placing my forehead against the cold wood and letting a long breath go.

What was I doing? I found myself in a foreign land, where I had no language, thousands of miles from where I had begun. I thought back to Buffy Summers, that dumb bottle blonde cheerleader at Hemry High, the only concern in my head was the theme to the Winter's Ball and if my boyfriend Jeffrey would like… totally think I was hot in my new top. Such simple, easy times they where.

Then Merrick came along and dragged me into hell.

And now? Who was I now?

A nameless girl, an international assassin, a pale faced warrior with darkened eyes and a ragged short brown crop. A girl who desired only girls, who could never tell her lovers the truth, or have a family or find peace in anything but death.

I couldn't sleep, so I made my way down to the training room and worked the wooden dummy til my cold iron hands dented the wood and blood was drawn. I pictured all those who fought me… nameless vampires, and those whose names I knew before I tore their immortal bodies apart with hell fire. Amilyn, Victoria, Lothos.

I fought my demons long into the night.

As I change to go to sleep, I once again notice the message from my predecessor scratched into the wall.

I take a nail file from my case and scratch my own message underneath.

_Buffy was here '93._

_Whoever you are- I'm sorry. _


	25. Prey

Chapter 24

Prey

In the darkness I heard many voices, some near, some far whispering a single word.

_Slayer_

I smelled stale cigarettes in a pay phone. I saw snow upon the pavings, grey with dirt. I heard a beep, a rattle of change being swallowed by the machinery within. An older woman speaks, but I do not see her. Her tone hushed.

"The Watcher has her. American. White. Brown hair. Short. This one is dangerous. This one has fire." The woman says.

The vision bleeds away, as if a mere reflection of a puddle of crawling oil.

Then, a violent image flashes up. A grey sky, the sting and stench of sea salt. Hammering fists smash painfully into my skull, arms move fast, a stake- death gripped between four quivering, bloodied hands, a struggle to the death.

_Pain_.

My scream wakes me as I fall.

...

"Helvete da, Buffy!" Diana groans as she staggers in through my door, her eyes bleary, ash white hair all a tangle about her face. She slumps onto my bed and points the dictaphone at me. "Go. Yes. Recording. Fæn."

I recount the imagery and words as best I can before they fade. Diana paws at her eyes, trying to wake. When I am finished, I try to decipher what I have seen.

"They know you have me." I say. "The many voices. They know."

"Maybe. Maybe. Fæn, you know, this is the seventeenth vision since we got here. They are getting more frequent. Somebody really wants you to know something." She rolls back on my bed and lets the dictaphone drop "or hates me and never wants me to sleep."

She turns to look at me and smiles, her hand warm on mine.

"I was dreaming of puppies. Many, many puppies. Little chocolate ones with cold noses." She says "I will make us breakfast."

"Why can't I dream about puppies?" I shout after her.

I realize my hand is still on my heart, the fabric of my top wet through with cold sweat. I taste blood in my mouth where I have bitten my tongue, but I know it will heal by the time I need to eat. Slayer healing is a marvelous thing.

I strip off my clothes and pad over to the tiny bathroom area. There is no shower, only a claw footed bath and a rubber shower hose that fits the taps. As I rinse down, Diana enters and balances a mug of fresh coffee on the side of the tub. I no longer feel ashamed to be naked around her, which is good because the bathroom had no privacy and the concept of shame seems utterly lost of Diana; I probably saw her as naked as often as clothed.

"Happy Birthday." She said, placing down a small parcel next to the coffee. I must have looked confused. "It is January nineteenth today in America. You made it to seventeen. Go you."

I unwrap the gift, and chuckle. It is a small white plastic pony.

…

Diana and I have breakfast out on the balcony. The sun is shining but the light weak, it is perfectly pleasant. My body feels good from my morning workout.

"How long are we going to be doing this?" I say. "Just training. No slayage."

"Until you are ready." She says, her mouth full of pastry. "The woman in the dream is right about you. You have fire. You just have to learn to use it." she says. "We have very, very important work for you."

"So, what? Out there all the vampires and demons just have a free pass until I am ready?"

"All the more reason to train hard to you are ready, faster. Then they will all pay." she winks and goes back to reading.

"My vision. They know where we are."

"Maybe." she shrugs. "But we don't invite them in. If the come? We kill them. A lot."

It didn't seem like a great plan to me. Sure, The Ward of Saint Dymphna meant that vampires could not enter any home uninvited, but I was pretty sure her spell didn't cover hand grenades.

The fact Diana seemed nonplussed just didn't sit right to me. How could vampires tolerate a Slayer in the very heart of their society?

"Who are The Volturi?" That question gets her attention. She pushes her glasses down and swallows her bite. Then she returns to her novella.

"A vampire coven. The biggest, most powerful. Why?"

"Something a vampire told me once. Said something like 'they had few laws, but the Volturi kept them'."

"You have many conversations with vampires?" She asked, sounding somewhat suspicious.

"Not long ones." I shrug, stabbing my fork into a sausage slice.

Call me a sucker for punishment, but there I was again, on this peaceful morning, thinking about Alice Cullen. Why couldn't I let her go? Was it her thrall? The way vampires where enchanting by nature? Or was I just caught by her visions of us together in love?

It was cruel how the visions had not shared with Alice that I was a Vampire Slayer. Maybe I not supposed to have been called? Did India Cohen, the girl before me, make a fatal decision that would set in motion the events that would shatter Alice's vision? Was I supposed to reach eighteen, like Tove and Erica, only to fall prey to a vampire like Alice had? Was there an angel out there for me too?

If, for the sake of argument, that somewhere, deep inside me, a dark desire lurked. A desire, perhaps, to be turned by Alice into the very thing I was created to destroy. If such a thing ever crossed my mind, I knew it was impossible.

She was sworn to never take a human life. I knew that if she tasted of my blood, she would frenzy- for even the taste of my skin on her lips drew her to ecstasy. Drinking me dry, I would simply die, never to rise. Then could she stop with just me? It was one hell of a wagon to fall off.

I shuddered at the thought of Alice's beautiful face, twisted into a fanged horror with a blood red viper's stare. Shying from the sunlight, her clothes stained and stinking of sewers as she lept upon a terrified infant.

No. I refuse to let her become a monster. To do those things.

And what of me? Would I have the will to fight the burning lust for blood? Would my split-wide mouth glisten with rows of razor fangs? Would I tear out the throats of mad girls in dark places?

Alice. Oh, my Alice. How cruel it must be.

I wonder where she is now. Alaska perhaps? I know she is awake right now. I hope she can forget me.

"Do you have someone, Diane?" I ask.

"A boyfriend? No. Not my thing." She wrinkles her nose.

"Do you like sex?"

"No. Not really. No."

"I do." I say. "I miss it."

Diana doesn't look up from her book.

"Find someone to fuck." She says, matter of factly. "Don't bring them here. Don't get attached. Don't use your real name."

I gaze out over the town, and wonder if Leah Clearwater ever thinks of me.

…

The night calls to me, as it always has, and my lust is rising like a fever. The sounds of distant laughter and music drift in from my balcony. I cannot lay still.

And so, I do what I must, I rise.

My eye makeup is dark, my lips glossy and red. I wear a short black dress with a draped hood, its gossamer layers whisper of the curves I hide beneath. It once belonged to Alice, of course, and I can smell her sweet scent on it. It drives me wild with desire.

I stalk through the dark winding alleys of Volterra, following the sounds and scents to their source.

The bar is small, packed tight with young bodies drenched in red light. Slipping back the hood so it falls around my shoulders, I plunge into the very heart of the dancers.

Their bodies are hot against me, damp with sweat, grinding, wanting. I let myself go to the throb and swell of the music, gyrating my hips slowly, curling my arms sensually above my head. Enchanting any and all that dare look upon me.

_I am The Slayer. Fear me. Want me_.

I see her then. Her eyes meet mine and she cannot look away. Slowly I close the distance as I dance, so slowly, so confidently, she cannot escape now- she is lost to me. We dance together without speaking, both of us imagining the night that is to come.

Then, when she cannot bear the need I stir in her any longer, she grasps my hand and leads me out into the night, back to her hotel room.

She tells me her name is Erica and that she is backpacking through Europe before heading to college. I tell her nothing. She tells me that her folks are from China, rich, cold hearted and will never accept her sexuality. When she speaks, it is with an English accent and a barely-there lisp I find adorable.

She doesn't know my name when I pull the wine glass from her hand, finish it and let it fall. She doesn't know the name of the girl who presses her to the wall, whose lips on her throat makes her burn with passion. The mystery girl in Italy who made her lose herself over and over and over, until she would never again be so satisfied. I left my mark. I ensured that she would never forget me.

To her my name is Alice.


	26. Carnevale

Chapter 25

Carnevale

It is May now and I don't recognise myself anymore. Under Diana's watch, I am hardened to an edge. My body is hard. My gaze hard. My movement is impossibly smooth and strong, always perfectly in balance, poised. My body is one of an acrobat, a dancer, a fighter- I am all of these and beyond still.

In the passing months, my hair has grown, I had it cut into a blunt bob- harsh and sharp, just like me.

Merrick was right. I had not known what a Slayer was. What I was capable of.

I do now.

Diana has told me now how I was forged. How The Shadow Men long ago fused a demon to a girl. I move with their speed because I am like them. I feel the demon in me now, wrapping around my muscle fibres, pulling my flesh closed when it is sundered, driving me into the night for my prey.

I am so hungry for the kill. I ache to be unleashed on the vampires. And that is what she wanted from me, isn't it? Why Diana has kept me away. She wants me hungering, damn her. What else does she want from me?

"Vino rosso corposo, grazie." I say.

This waitress is comfortable with my gaze, her smile flirty. I ignore it, and look back into the square at the throng of tourists soaking up the night life. They are here for The Festival of Saint Marcus tomorrow. A gentle rain fell an hour ago and cut through the heat, and now the night air is charged with excitement.

I sit at my favorite wine bar on one of the dozen or so small, white tables out in the courtyard. The people who sit at the other tables chatter and laugh. I sit amongst them, but feel apart, an observer, a ghost.

"Sei così bello." The man says as he leans over from the next table. "But your Italian? Not so good. You are American?"

I don't need to look to know what he is. I can feel his presence quickening my body.

"You like flirting with forbidden fruit, don't you?" I say. I turn to him now, letting my body move with sensual grace.

His face is impossibly handsome, his eyes coal black. He looks at me with the assumption I am already his. He cannot know I am immune to his charms in more ways than one. I lean into my palm, my exposed wrist turned toward the vampire at my side. His eyes flick to the exposed flesh.

My broad smile is genuine.

The nearby alley which we go is narrow but tall, tucked away out of sight, an ideal spot for lovers. He has me pressed against a wall, icy hands grip my waist.

"Bellissimo" he whispers, his voice trembling as he takes in the scent of my blood. I wonder if Slayers blood is made to be irresistible. He savors it, the scent of me, his tongue wetting his lips as if preparing for a kiss. I lean in.

"Do The Volturi know you flaunt their laws?" I whisper in his ear.

He startles at this. Or, perhaps, it is the tip of my stake as I begin to push it slowly into him. The metallic crack of vampire flesh parting. He tries to move, to pull back, but I have him held tight.

"Non! Stop. Forgive me! I obey Volturi. Please…stop! " He says, his voice ragged with agony, the words rasp his fangs against his lips. I press deeper, inching the splinter of hardwood towards his heart.

"Mmmm. But I don't work for The Volturi." I say.

In a blur I crash him into the opposite wall. My hand is against his mouth now, fine cracks emanate from where I crush it beneath strong fingers.

"All those young girls you took?" I say. "I work for them."

His body is heating up against me, the burning from within will soon reach his skin. He quivers, unable to draw in a final breath as his lungs are already crumbling. I only draw back as he disintegrates. I leave his blackened shadow on the wall.

I lick my dry lips and go back to my table for the wine that awaits me. The waitress smiles at me again, and I smile back.

The next day, all the town is alive a vibrant spectacle of color and sound. Around us the tourists mingle, acrobats tumble, music plays and drums beat. The Festival of Saint Marcus is in full swing

The day is already hot and the sun too bright for my nocturnal eyes. I hide behind dark glasses. I wear a my lightest, air-iest clothing- a cream top and black culottes, but my skin longs for shade. The mist from the fountain is pleasant on my bare arms and I linger there as we watch the procession.

Diana is humming, she has a cone of gelato in each hand, alternating licks as she pleases. I have already devoured mine.

Giant paper mache vampire puppets are held high on rods above the procession, a handsome youth makes his puppet bite Diana, and she squeals.

"Save me Buffy!" She cries out dramatically, and we both laugh hard. If there was any trauma left from the death of her family at the hands of a vampire, it does not show on her now tanned, heavily freckled features. Some people in masks are dancing, and Diana joins them, spinning and laughing. She makes me smile despite myself.

I have not told her of last night's slay. Because it is mine- he belongs to me and me alone.

She will have her way with me soon enough- I know my training is drawing to an end and plans are afoot. I hear her making whispered phone calls when I am in the bath. I buzz with excitement at the idea. I am ready. I know I am.

But then, a strange feeling overcomes me. It is like the sound of the festival dies away, and on the air comes the distant roar of a car engine. The sound, for whatever reason, fills me with a sense of uneasiness, and I feel my nerves tingle and spark.

The sensation draws me back from Diana, and I thread through the crowd to the edge. Yes, I can hear it now, the car is closing in, the scream of the engine echoes through the ancient streets.

Then, exploding out of a tunnel far down the hill comes a bright yellow Porsche. It power slides across the pavement, coming to a halt by some metal bollards. A young woman with shoulder length brown hair, throws the car door wide and begins to sprint from it. I watch her as she heads towards the town square, disappearing out of sight

Curiosity seizes me, and I jog down the steps that I know will lead me to an archway that opens up to the path she is taking.

My blood turns to ice when I see her rush past. I know her. I know her well.

It can't be.

It's Jessica Stanley.

And she looks terrified.


	27. Crashing Down

Chapter 26

Crashing Down

I stagger like I have been punched. Did I really just see Jessica Stanley running through the streets of Volterra? I feel like walls in my mind are crashing down once more. That, somehow, Volterra is all delusion and the cold bladed reality that is Forks was piercing through.

I couldn't breathe. I fumbled back for the crumbly, ancient stone of the wall behind me. I closed my eyes.

In that darkness, I could almost smell the ward, almost taste the cheap instant coffee I used to punctuate the gruelling boredom.

_No. No, I am not there. I can't be there._

I force my eyes open, tearing away my sunglasses and glare towards the sun, feeling it's heat on my sweat glazed face. The ancient stone under my hands is real, is true.

I gasp in a deep, steadying breath.

I am in Volterra.

And Jessica needs me.

I run, The Slayer in me stirs, wanting for me to reach into the deep well of it's power. But I resist, only going as fast as humanly possible; I am painfully aware of the crowd that surrounds me.

As I reached the square, I see Jessica throw open the old wooden doors of a derelict chapel. She enters without hesitation.

The crowd here is thicker, gathered around a street performer, so I am forced to weave through them. By the time I reach the doors, Jessica is out of sight

Inside the building is empty, degraded, the walls crumbling away, leaving faded traces of frescoes.

Ahead I see Jessica intercept a man, throwing her arms around him in warm embrace.

To my shock it is Edward Cullen.

He returns her embrace and whispers to her. She looks up, and their lips meet in a joyful kiss. Jessica's eyes are red with tears, she talks fast and he nods. They embrace again and hurriedly turn to come back my way.

But then, Jessica suddenly freezes in her tracks, her face contorted as if silently screaming. She starts to convulse, falling to her knees. Edward spins to face something in the shadows. Then, he too seems stung by the same agony. I could see the veins in his neck pop out, his muscles shivering as if hundreds of volts of electricity ripped through him.

"Edward! No!" Jessica cries and she tries to stand. "Stop! Please!"

I am about to race to their aid when a cold hand clamps over my mouth and draws me back. Alice Cullen' face appears before mine, her finger to her lips in a silent warning. She draws me back from the doorway.

I can't believe she is really here, really touching me. Tears well in my eyes as she pulls me close, her sweet smell ohhh!

I feel joy- true joy, something I long felt destroyed in me.

Alice seems close to tears herself, a fragile smile upon her delicate petal lips and she strokes my cheeks.

"Please, I beg you, he has done nothing wrong. Please." Jessica screams. "Please, don't hurt him!"

Again, I go to move, but Alice prevents me once more. She shakes her head, her eyes pleading.

"Nothing wrong?" a woman's voice says, prim and sarcastic "We shall see. Come."

Alice holds me, waiting. Her eyes tell me to remain still, to trust. She doesn't let go until the footsteps on the marble die away to silence. I hear a metal gate open and a moment later, slam shut.

"Buffy." Alice gasps, pulling me into a hug. "I can't believe you are here. How are you here?"

"Same question, but waaaaaay more emphatic." I say. I glance back towards where the vampires took Edward and Jessica.

"You can't save them Buffy."

"The hell I can't."

"No. You don't understand. I have seen this all in my visions. This HAS to happen."

"What?"

"If we intervene, Aro will use his power to read Edward or myself and our family is doomed. He can see every memory anyone has ever had with a mere touch. That must not happen. "

"I don't understand."

"Please, trust me. I will explain, but we must go before they find us. They are coming. We must go... Now!"

…

We don't talk as Alice hurriedly leads me through the ancient backstreets. She grasps my hand firmly, pulling me along, never looking at me once.

She leads me to a nondescript, but clearly ancient building, opening the sturdy, iron studded wooden door with a key she produces from the breast pocket of her blouse.

"This is Carlisle's." she says. "We will be safe here." I wonder if he bought it new.

Inside the house is dark and the air moldy and stale- for the first floor at least. But she leads me up to a more modern section, which I immediately recognise as the handywork of Esme. This part is homely, open plan, with a high roof of iron and glass that spills light down through well tended greenery. The whole space is much smaller than their Forks residence, but equally breathtaking.

Alice releases my hand and makes a bee line for the kitchen, opening the polished steel refrigerator. She sighs with relief at what is inside, and pulls out what I realise is a blood bag.

"Look away." She says, her voice filled with shame.

"No."

Alice looks distressed as this. I casually lean back against the countertop.

"Please Buffy, I am so hungry."

"Then eat." I say. "I know what you are, Alice."

Slowly she brings the thick plastic container up to her lips. She is trembling as she does so.

"Please." She whispers.

"Fine." I say, turning my back. I hear a wet ripping sound, followed by low, thick, heavy gulping. I picture the cool, clotted liquid sliding down her gullet. It should revolt me, but it doesn't.

I must confess, Alice's moan as she pulls her lips away is the most deeply erotic sound I had ever heard. My breathing hitches, and I feel my body respond immediately.

"Buffy… I… oooh…" she says, her voice quavering. I look then, unable to resist, and see her head lolled back, eyes shut, her lips deep ruby. A thin trail of blood snaking its way down her pale throat to her breast.

I watch, fixated, as she draws in slow, ragged breaths. Her cheeks flush, and for a moment, just a moment, it is like she is human. Her pallor returns a moment later, and her head rolls forward. Golden eyes flutter open to look at me.

I long to lick the blood from the entire sweep of her neck, breast to lips, to kiss it back into her mouth.

So I do.

Her eyes widen as my tongue delivers the life blood to her eager mouth. I feel her fingers at my back, kneading my flesh like a kitten. She groans again, but this time it is for me.

"Buffy," she whispers through bloody lips, "I missed you so.You were hidden from me. Someplace dark. I feared you dead."

"I missed you too." I whisper. "Every single day".

We kiss again, her tongue seeking out every drop of blood from my mouth. Her lips warm to mine and swell. She moans softly, caressing my hot skin with cool fingertips. It reminds me of the refreshing fountain mist.

I want more. Much more.

Alice does too. She crosses her arms in front of her and swiftly strips off her top. My own follows.

The soft chill of her breasts pressing into my hot skin causes us both to moan with delight. Her fingers drag down my body, tugging my culottes from my hips, and a moment later we are fully revealed to each other.

"Buffy." She sighs, running her hands over me. "This is dangerous."

"Yes." I say, and draw back, pulling her hand until she follows. I lead her to the sunken living room, and, turning her, lay her down onto the deep, white, plush rug.

She gazes up at me with something like wonder as I rise over her. Her hands reach for me tenderly, pulling us once again together. Our bodies fit together perfectly, effortlessly, a testament to belonging.

She sighs long and low, her body relaxing, spreading underneath me. The years she has waited for this fall away. I can feel the completion in her. In me.

If she loses herself now, if her willpower crumbles apart now, I know I would willingingly give myself over. What better death than this? I would die for Alice Cullen. I would die this instant.

"Tell me you want this." She whispers. "Tell me Buffy."

"I want this. I want nothing but this. We both know I am yours."

"What if I cannot stop?" She says. I kiss her deeply.

"Either way, I cannot stand this any more Alice. I am lost. I cannot think of anything but you. Us. If you cannot stop, do not stop."

She guides me onto my back, the delicious friction as our bodies glide against each other makes us both gasp.

Above me, through the roof made of glass and iron, I can see the sun. It seems ironic. The sun I said my goodbyes to as I left for Forks, looking in down on me at this moment.

I smile and look back at my beautiful lover, at my beautiful Alice.

She holds me still in her arms, my heart beat is the only sound I hear.

She lowers her mouth to my throat. I can feel the graze of her fangs against my flesh, I feel the slowing of her breath as she wills herself calm.

My fingers lace through hers gently.

"Alice, I love you."


	28. Eternal

Chapter 27

Eternal

I come hard as her fangs enter me. Her venom gushes into my blood as my heart thunders, searing every nerve it passes in exquisite pleasure. I am aware we are both crying out loud, Alice and I, but a moment later the venom's flood takes me completely from my senses.

The pleasure soars, going beyond the function of merely keeping prey still enough to be devoured; far, far beyond. I feel like I am drawn to a single, singing point of white light, the pleasure rising higher, phasing me through states of consciousness my mind has never reached.

It peaks and holds, blinding hot ice, sound made sensation, future and past crushed together in diamond hard perfection.

It is too high, too good, too intense.

And it grows from intense to intolerable, pleasure to pain, epiphany to agony, and suddenly I am utterly aware of my entire body and everything is screaming.

I have never felt pain such as this.

It is consuming me alive, destroying me, unmaking me.

I don't know time as anything but cruelty now. It holds me here. Stretching out the hell, on and on and on and on and on.

I know not seconds, nor minutes, nor days.

How can it ever get worse, ever go beyond this? And yet, it does. Any part of me left begs for death to come. Stop this. End this. End me. I beg of you.

I am nothing.

I know only pain.


	29. Moon Rise

Chapter 28

Moon Rise

My eyes open.

Where there was sun, there is now moon.

I see the stars clearer than I have ever seen, each point of light now fringed in rich colors that dance for me. I see the flecks of dirt and imperfections of the glass between. So high up, yet so close, I lift my hand to touch it. of course it is still out of reach.

My arm is pure white, each cell crisp and clear, and each cell sings with color like the stars.

I draw a breath in wonder. I feel my lungs fill, but there is no sensation past this, no satisfaction. I let the unessecary breath out long and slow, the sound of my gentle moan musical to my ear.

I am aware of myself now. I am laid out in the middle of the room, my hands placed so they cross over my breast. My body feels clean and fresh, and more alive than ever before.

My eyes find focus easily, zooming on details, zooming back on the whole, each thing I find is familiar, and yet a wonder. And I see her now, sitting cross legged at my feet, watching me with golden eyes that shine in the moonlight.

"Alice" I say, and my voice is soothing, reverberating musically like wind chimes. I reach that strange, shimmering white hand that belongs to me now, towards her, and she takes it.

Her hand is warm in mine.

"Amazing." She says, and I rise to take her in my arms completely.

Her scent hits my nose like a wave of joy, for it is pure now, unadulterated. Somehow more sweet, more savory and I now I understand why it called to me so. Alice smells to me of belonging. In her arms I am home.

"I love you Buffy." She whispers. "I have always loved you."

…

I want to make love to her again, but she only smiles and says "We have forever for that now, but they will be here soon."

"They?"

"Get dressed" she smiles, caressing my cheek. "And feed, my love. You will see."

We slip our clothes back on and she leads me to the kitchen. It feels so strange holding the container of blood in my own hands whilst Alice leans casually against the counter, like deja vu- but we have switched places.

I gaze at the bag wondering what I must do but for a moment, before instinct surges through me, snapping my head forward, tearing into the blood bag with sudden, razor fangs.

The liquid is unpleasantly cold, and the taste bitter and metallic at first, but as I draw it hungrily through my lips its nature changes. Flavour bursts across my palette, so rich, so utterly delicious that everything I ever tasted before is washed away in its discovery. How could I ever want anything but this?

My body vibrates with life but for a moment, before it dies away and I am filled with need.

"More" I groan. Alice hands me another bag, far too slowly my liking- I seize it from her and bury my fangs into it, sucking deeply.

"So. Now you know." She says, her tone falling somewhere between smug and guilty.

"It's… it's…"

"Not enough. Never enough" she says. "And that is how it will always be for you now... if you choose our way."

The bag is empty, and this angers me, I throw it down and in an instant- I have the fridge door torn open. As I gaze at the packets of blood, Alices words sink in.

Choice. I have a choice.

Ooooh, what I could do! Right now- the things I could do!

I could rush from here, right now, right out into the night and take freely of this exquisite new thing that seizes me so. I could drink it down, hot and plentiful, devour and gorge and feast and keep doing that until I am sated. _They_ are just outside. Right outside. All around me.

I could. I could- so easily.

Oh.

_Now I understand_.

My hand is trembling as the war rages inside me. I am frozen to this moment, vampire to vampire slayer. I really have become a monster.

_Oh god, I really am_.

I see my hand, and I see the blood it reaches for. I feel instinct and reason clashing and grinding in me like tectonic plates.

I am a Vampire Slayer still, am I not?

I just have one last vampire to defeat now.

Myself.

It feels blasphemous somehow, but I reach deep into that well, draw from it the strength I need.

I reach for the third packet. I remember, what seems like a lifetime ago, my mortal hand hovering as it reached for the shower tap. Testing my will.

It takes all of my resolve to bring myself back under control. I take two of the blood bags, as carefully as I can, and force my body to step back. It feels impossible to close the steel door, to put anything between my aching thirst and that unctious nectar, but somehow, I do it.

I growl low and shut my eyes, willing my body still. Finally, I open them to look at the woman whose own control made me what I am.

"Here." I say, extending my trembling arm to Alice, offering her one of the bags. **_Mine! Want! Devour! Take! _**

"I don't want to drink alone." I say.

She seems to marvel at me, at my control, and takes the offered bag with that perfect smile, showing no shame as she bares her naked fangs and brings the incredible food to her mouth.

I mirror her, waiting, and only when she pierces the plastic with her teeth, do I allow myself to do the same.

We watch each other. We share the ecstasy.

…

I know it is Jessica who stands beside Edward, but also, it isn't.

Her skin is the finest marble, as mine, and her eyes are sharp, sensual and aware. Her rounded cheeks angular now, carved and polished. Her hair has a rich chestnut quality. She wears it pinned up, the strands that fall about her face coil gracefully down.

She is Jessica, perfected.

The greatest change is her sweet, innocent brown eyes are now vibrant blood red, a sight that no longer stirs my blood to violence, but sings of belonging.

She is dressed in a short blue dress that displays her full cleavage and elegant white neck. She holds herself straight and flows as she moves to embrace me.

"Sister." She says.

"Sister." I smile. She is warm in my arms.

"Welcome to the family, Buffy." Edward says, warmly. I know he isn't Esme's child or childe, but in saying this, he inspires the same deep warmth in me as she does. I belong. I finally feel I belong.

As Edward greets Alice with a proud hug, Jessica and I marvel at our changes.

"Are my eyes red too?" I ask Jessica. She nods.

"Edward says they will fade to gold in time. If we a good little vegetarians." I detect the hint of chagrin in her voice, and realise that Jessica's first meal was a gift of The Volturi. I don't know how to feel about that- I know jealousy shouldn't be that feeling, but it burns in my craw nonetheless. Perhaps it will be harder for her now? Now that she knows what it is she is missing.

"This is so wiggy." She says "I thought you were gone forever or… like… totally dead, and now… all of sudden, here you are-"

"Totally dead." I remind her.

"And boy, does it look good on you." She says and winks. She turns and joins her hand to Edward's, practically purring at the contact. They look good together.

"So, when did all this happen?" I wave my finger, indicating their relationship.

"Uh, long story." Jessica chuckles, "Actually, longer than I suspected. Apparently, someone could read my thoughts." She glared teasingly at Edward. He smiles warmly, and kisses her pale hand. "But he loved what he saw."

"Can you read mine now?" I say. (Boy, I just can't get used to how alluring my voice sounds.)

Edward shakes his head. "Actually, I think your gift is even stronger Buffy, I haven't been able to hear any of you since we entered the house."

"Shame, my thoughts are *really* dirty right now" Jessica jokes. She looks back at Alice and I. "Speaking of which, is it weird I can like… totally smell what you two have been up to?"

"This is me, blushing." I say, pointing to my bloodless cheek. Alice and Edward laugh.

"Alice is just a friend, my ass." Jessica says, her eyes sparkling. "Like I couldn't see you watching her, missy."

"So, what happens now?" I say, looping my arm around Alice, revelling in the freedom of having her close.

"We go home." Edward says. "Before The Volturi discover you."

That idea pleases me. I long to return to that great, rich wilderness, to run with Alice amongst the ancient mossy trees; to experience it fully with my new senses, imagining how rich and heady the scents will be. How teeming with life, with game. Wow, I am salivating at the thought.

But then I remember something and my dead heart sinks.

"Buffy, what's wrong?"

"Diana." I say. "My watcher."


	30. Spiderwebs

Chapter 29

Spiderwebs

The four of us keep to the rooftops, knowing it is the best path to avoid temptation for Jessica and myself.

The humidity of hot night air is breaking upon a cooling storm and from this high up, I can see forks of lightning crack against the distant landscape, flooding the sky with purple light. Showers are coming on the breeze, but they are not here just yet. The scents of the city mingle with the building petrichor.

"This is a bad idea" Edward says behind me.

"Regardless of what you think, I still need my passport." I say. "Unless you can arrange for a new one."

"We can, but it will take a few weeks." Edward says.

"The sooner we are out of Volterra the better." I say. "But I agree this is a bad idea. Can they know who turned me?"

"No." Says Alice "but if Aro touches you…"

"If that ever happened, I was kinda of hoping my gift would let me plead the psychic equivalent of the fifth."

Edward frowns at this. "Aro is very old, and very powerful. There is no guarantee it will work. Remember, Esme's gift could affect you- she's only turning 100 next year. Aro is thousands of years old."

"But Esme said she suspected that it was because Buffy wanted her to change her moods." Alice reminded him. "She had an invitation"

"Look, I don't plan to get caught. So let's just focus on getting to my passport."

Alice seemed frustrated and clumsy as we worked our way across the ancient rooftops. I hadn't seen her like this before. I pulled her close whilst we waited for a suitable moment to jump across the street without being noticed.

"You okay?" I whisper. "You seem kinda… itchy. What's going on?"

"I haven't had a vision since I got here, so…" Alice throws up her hands "I don't like uncertainty. It gives me bellyache." I pull her in for a kiss, marvelling at the warmth of her mouth. She moans softly as we kiss, I feel her tension begin to ease.

"Get a room." Jessica says, smiling sweetly. "If you two can unsuck face for a moment, those Drunk guys are moving on, the coast is clear."

From the rooftop we are on, I can look directly down into the small square that backs onto my apartment. From where I sit, I can see the warm glow of the bedside lights of Diana's room.

"Okay, look, you all go on ahead and make the travel arrangements, I will get my passport, speak to Diana, if she is there and meet you at the airport."

"I am not leaving you, Buffy." Alice says, her frustration flicking to panic. I feel compelled to draw her to me, our proximity instantly soothing her. I stroke my hands down her arms. If I am honest, I didn't want her out of my sight either.

"Fine, but… stay well back out of sight."

She nods and we kiss.

"I never thought I would be eager to go to Forks." I mutter and leap from the roof.

...

My body responds to my will effortlessly, I drop onto Diana' balcony and land silently upon the wrought iron railing.

I come slowly down to a crouch, so I can peer inside.

Diana's room is destroyed. The lights are on. Her bedside table flipped, her mattress and sheets strewn about the floor. Everywhere, torn pages of books are scattered. The french windows to the balcony are thrown wide, some of the panes smashed.

I lift myself silently down to the balcony floor and stalk into the room. Or, at least, that was the plan. In an instant, the air seems to thicken before me, become like scalding syrup. I come rudely to a halt at the threshold.

"So, that is what that feels like." I mutter. I rake my hand through the invisible barrier, testing it. The further I push, the firmer it seems to grip me.

I can see my bedroom doorway across the hall, I knew my passport lay beyond it.

"So, they send you to kill me yourself." Says Diana. "How poetic."

I can see her now, curled up against the wall beside the ruined bed, knees drawn to her chest. Her face is reddened, her eyes swollen and wet with tears. Her hair in disarray. She lifts a bottle of wine to her lips.

"I am not here to kill you Diana." I say, not entirely convinced that is the truth.

She stands awkwardly using the wall, clearly drunk, and approaches. As she draws close she slows to look me over, I wonder what it is she sees.

"Look at you." She says sorrowfully. "Look what I did to you. Now we are both monsters, you and I." She drinks from the bottle again. Then she laughs.

"You know, part of me must have hoped it would be you who came for me. I even practiced this talk. It went… something like… I had no choice, they have Karin hostage… yadda yadda… but it's bullshit, isn't it? I knew the Volturi would always Kill Karin. As good as dead. So I had a choice. But… even small hope is better than none."

"Who is Karin?"

"Does it matter?" She laughs bitterly. "Did… they feed her to you? Hmm? I hope she made you choke."

"They didn't feed me anyone. I haven't so much as tasted human blood."

"Løgner!" she yells, stomping her foot. "Why lie to me now? You think I don't know how this goes?"

"You don't. I wasn't turned by The Volturi. I have harmed no one."

She stares at me, disbelievingly. I can see she had been crying for a long time. Her t-shirt is stained and torn, her hair in disarray. She staggers, dangerous close to the boundary between us. I can smell her blood hot and rich, tantalizingly close. All she had to do was come a little closer. Just a little. I step back, turning my head away. Shying back from her delectable, heady aroma.

"Diana, I was in love. Back at Forks, before you came to get me, I was in love. With a vampire. I ran into her during The Festival… I had her turn me. I chose this."

"You chose to become... _this..._ for love?" She says, waving her hand, and another scruptious hint of her scent towards me. I swallowed hard, trying not to breathe.

"You are seventeen for Christ's sakes Buffy, what do you know of love?"

She was right, of course, what could I know of love? Alice had decades to get to know me from her visions, to fall in love. Time worked differently to her. But me? I barely knew Alice at all.

But I did know some things: I knew emptiness and madness and loss. I knew obsession and I knew lust. I knew that no matter how far I ran, or what sexual release I took in the arms of others, it was only a release from the torment of desire I had for Alice. She was always there. Every face I found pretty, promptly compared to hers. Every time I shut my eyes at the pleasure I took from the ministrations of others, it was Alice in there waiting.

Maybe I did not know love but I knew this. Alice Cullen filled the empty, dark spaces within my being like no other ever could. She was feast to the famine of my life.

So no, maybe I did not know love as Diana spoke of it. If this was not love, so be it, because whatever it was, it was enough.

"I take it you where training me to serve The Volturi? What? Did they want their own personal Slayer, or, Anti-Slayer? A slay-pire?" I said.

"Are you even a Watcher, Diana?"

"I am. But The Watcher's Council has long been puppets of The Volturi. Even Merrick he..."

"That is quite enough." Came an eerily familiar voice. We both looked up to see a figure waiting in the chamber doorway.

I knew her instantly from my nightmares. The doll faced vampire. It was always a shock when I encountered something from a vision in waking life, but in the flesh there was something even more terrible about her presence, it felt like a razor slicing down my spine.

Unlike in my visions, which I realised had bled her image in with my encounter with Alice, she appeared little more than an early teen. No more than 13. But I could feel the power coming of her even from where I stood- it spoke to my vampiric self, telling me to cower, to fear.

She was dressed in black, with a high white collar and a golden amulet around her neck. Her pale fingers laced gently together before her.

"Jane, please, I did what I was told I..."

"Pain."

Diana began to shake violently, her arms clawing at the air like she was on fire. The sound issuing from her lips was chilling.

"Stop!" I roared, hammering against the air between us, my fists coming away sticky and burning hot with the magicks.

Diana drops to the floor hard, convulsing.

Jane passes her, carrying her slight body towards me with all the poise and power of a queen. As this strange girl draws near there is a ghost of a sensation pass through me, like a memory- the smell burning wood and flesh, wrists bound with rough ropes to a pole, thrashing and tearing. In her crimson eyes I can hear history screaming.

"You must be Buffy." Jane says, her small, sadistic face inches from mine. "I have been waiting so very long to meet you."

"Why? Because you have a death wish?" I say.

"Because, " she says, a small, cruel smile crossing her lips. "I wanted to see what you thought of my gift ."

"Oh crap." I say and tense up, ready to resist.

"Pain."

It wasn't that long ago that I was consumed by the greatest pain I had ever known. They say you do not remember pain as you do pleasure, but those that say it clearly have never been turned.

A scream issues from my mouth, pitching up as I shake and thrash, like fire chews at my flesh. I spasm and my knees give out, I come crashing down, my head hitting hard against the metal balcony railing. A sharp metallic sound hammers through my skull.

I ball up on the floor, merely feet from where Diana lays, whimpering.

I feel the cracks as they run along my face- it sounds like eggshells crunching underfoot, magnified a hundreds of times, shot through with white hot pain. I bring a trembling hand to my wound, feeling it smooth away to nothing. My cheek is velvety soft to my touch unblemished.

Jane looms over me, victorious.

"Well, Buffy, I guess that answers that question. Thank you for indulging me."

"Now" she says. "Come with me. Aro is most eager to meet you."

"Dymphna… ward" I gasp, fumbling to stand.

"Diana." Jane says.

"Buffy…" Diana croaks "please come in."

"Finally" I sigh.

My punch sends Jane smashing into the wall so hard that large chunks of the plaster slake off. The following kick to her stomach drives her deeper in still, the brickwork giving under the force.

"Pain! Pain!" Jane roars, her furious eyes locked onto mine.

"Okay, if you insist." I say with a grin, and punch her through the wall. Her body slumps back, landing in the small corridor behind, her black robes now covered in white dust. I take the doorway, much easier, and drag the vicious little witch to her feet.

Her doll face a spiderweb of glinting cracks, one eye closed by the damage I have inflicted. She brings her hand to my wrist, gripping hard as she pulls back to strike, so I lean back and let my body weight pull her towards me.

The headbutt drives her back. The haymaker sends her flying into the bathroom area, skidding along the long faded black and white tiles.

I stride in after her.

"Can you believe I flunked drama?" I say clapping the dust from my hands. "I thought that was Oscar worthy? Don't you? An Emmy at least." I sink my foot hard into her ribs, and am rewarded with deep resonating crunch.

In truth, Jane's gift had reached me, but the pain I felt was little more than the aching throb after a spider bite. I felt the sting still. but I wasn't going to let the little freak know that.

Jane tries to rise, but her arms give out. I stand on her fingers and throat regardless.

"Now, that we have established an understanding Jane, how about we progress to the pleasant conversation part?" I screw my heel down deeper into her throat for emphasis.

Jane's hateful little face fills with terror. I release her and step away, watching the broken little doll slowly drawing herself together with a sickening array of crunching sounds.

"You dare attack a Volturi?" she gasps, one hand at her crackled neck.

"I don't know our laws yet, but I am pretty confident you attacking first counts in my favor"

She draws herself up to standing.

"The fledgling is right, Jane." Says a young male voice with a chuckle. He stands in the hall, a boyish looking vampire with black velvet robes similar to Janes. He leans casually against the wall, and seems amused by the scene.

Behind him are four more robed vampires, three male, one female, all hidden in the shadow of red lined hoods.

"I take it you are The Slayer." The boy says.

"Well, retired. I clocked out yesterday. See?" I prod at my fang with an extended middle finger, and turn my head side to side.

"I do. An unforeseen turn of events. Regardless, I am pleased to meet you Ms. Swan. My name is Alec."

"See?" I say, turning to Jane who is dusting her skirts off angrily, "Smart Alec."

Alec smiles, offering his hand to me. I take it and he bestows a kiss upon it. "Do forgive my sister, won't you Ms. Swan? She is merely jealous. Very few have ever withstood her gift."

"Aww shucks, give it a few hundred years and I am sure we can laugh about it." I say. "So, do I get some answers as to what the hell is going on?"

"I would be delighted. Shall we?" He gestures for me to lead on down the corridor. Somehow I got the feeling it wasn't an option. "Aro is most eager to meet you."

I feel nausea rising, or something as close to it as my new body can manage.

Aro.

The one all vampires feared. And the one whose brother's heart I had personally driven a stake into. If he touched me… if I could not resist him, he would know everything.

The Cullen's saving my life, harboring me, Alice allowing me to run, then turning me on Volturi territory- making me stronger still. What penalties would The Cullen's face if I could not resist?

I weigh my chances with the gathered vampires. Jane's power clearly earned her a place amongst the Volturi Guard. I had no idea what the five others where capable of.

Anyway, even if I somehow defeated them, without letting one escape to warn others, what then? They would know it was me. The Volturi would hunt me down, and that put Alice in danger too.

I felt exhausted by all this. I just wanted to return to Forks and put slaying behind me. Hadn't I earned that? Hadn't I done enough? Wasn't even dying in agony enough?

My passport was in the top drawer of my dresser. Just behind Alec. Merely meters from me.

I was caught.

I shot my warmest fake smile at Alec and, holding my head high, I made my way towards the door.

"Do come along Jane" I said. "There's a good girl.


	31. Taken

Chapter 30

Taken

I expected to be led deep underground, via some passages lined with countless skulls to some sort of magnificent chamber with thrones lit by candles.

But instead, I found myself led to a magnificent circular garden upon a rooftop that overlooked Volterra. All about me I could see the twinkling lights of the town that had been my home for the last four months. The garden itself was amazing, with all manner of strange and exotic plants and flowers. Scattered throughout where what I thought to be, with my admittedly limited knowledge, ancient Greek looking artifacts- columns and masonry, parts of frescos and statues.

The Volturi Guard flanked me on all sides, with Alec walking beside me and Jane hovering behind me. I could feel her eyes boring into the back of me the whole walk.

Ever since I entered the garden, I felt the queerest creeping sensation. It was hard to pin down, but it felt like the shadows of the trees where deeper and blacker than they should be. That the rippling movement of the many leaves, vines and fronds about me were not in fact due to any gentle breeze. It was wigsome to the max.

The Volturi guard by this stage had greatly increased in number, more joining as we had made our way through the tunnels and staircases of decaying stone. They began to spread out around me, taking up positions about the garden. I counted ten pairs of crimson eyes upon me.

"Ahhh Ms.Summers at last, at last."

I turned to see a man approaching. He was seemingly in his twenties, wearing a sharp, stylish black suit. He moved with a dancer's grace, practically floating across the ornate paved floor to meet me.

What I found most striking about him was that his skin was translucently white, like onion skin, and it looked just as delicate—it stood in shocking contrast to the long black hair that framed his face. His eyes were as red as the others, but the color was clouded, milky; I wondered if his vision was affected by the haze.

"Aro, I take it?"

"I am. I am so very pleased to finally meet you."

"You know you are coming across all Bond-villainy, right?" To which he let out a peal of strangely enchanting laughter. There was something child-like and bright about it.

"I suppose I must. Well, it's a bit late to arrange for a tank of sharks or some other fiendish trap for you to escape from at this hour I am afraid. So perhaps we might settle instead for a little light conversation instead. How does that sound?"

"Less fatal, so, I am coming down on the side of pro at this stage." I said, glancing about the gathered Volturi Guard.

"Please, join me."

Quite the host, Aro swept his arm towards a regal looking gazebo. He pulled out a chair for me and I sat. I was careful to keep from touching his fingers as I did. Aro took a seat beside me so that we both sat facing out to the view.

A woman in a white suit approached with a golden tray. She was strikingly beautiful with blonde hair done up in a complex french braid. I could smell that she was human. The woman set down two chalices before us, never once making eye contact. She then stepped back, bowed deeply to us both and backed away.

I recognized the golden chalices from my visions. I knew what was in them.

"I must say events have not quite turned out as I had planned." Aro said, picking up his chalice and waving it under his nose. I wondered if the thousands of years had dulled his senses to the blood, or had they hardened his will to iron. It took so much strength not to snatch the chalice from his hands and tip it into my throat. I dig my nails into my thighs, feeling them crack and crackle beneath the fabric of my culottes.

"Tell me about it, I planned to see Europe, marry Christian Slater and die." I said. "Well, two out of three ain't bad, I guess."

"You are, for lack of a better metaphor, quite a breath of fresh air to me, ms. Summers." He chuckled lightly, "or, do you prefer Swan now?"

"Please, call me Buffy." I said. Aro smiles.

"Well, Buffy, I had suspected that you would make a fine immortal." He says. "But, I must say, you really are truly magnificent."

I tried not to be flattered but, aww heck, it beat terrified, even just for a change of pace.

"Thank-you Aro. You are too kind."

"You know, I had planned to gift you immortality myself."

"Why?"

"Because you so richly deserve it. And The blood of a slayer? Far too potent, too irresistible to trust anyone else to turn you. I can think of perhaps, three immortals beside myself with such control."

"See? I always thought I had good taste." I felt we were dangerously close to the subject I wanted to avoid. "So, I thought Slayers where your mortal enemies. Why would you even consider me for such an honour?"

"Oh no, The Slayer is a vital component in Vampire culture. She thins out the weak, the careless, and those far too bold who threaten to expose our kind. The Slayer keeps our kind safe from annihilation."

"I see. Forgive me if I am a little pissed at that revelation. Kinda makes me feel like just a pawn."

"And you where. It is vital that Slayers do not know who they really work for. Imagine, if you had known. What would you have done Buffy?"

"Run. Hid. And when that didn't work, find out who was really responsible and destroy them."

"So you see now?"

"I do. But that doesn't change how I feel about it."

"Then let me tell you this. You alone stood against Lothos and his newborn army. My wayward brother's plan was to build a huge coven in America with the power to challenge Volturi rule. We were on the very brink of a terrible war.

But then… along came a single pawn and she took the king." He sips from his chalice.

"Buffy, you know what happens to a pawn that reaches the end of the board. What that makes you?"

I felt my fingers on the stem of my chalice, but did not remember reaching for it. I gazed down at it now. It was exquisitely detailed, a thing of great age and worth. It turned it my fingers, trying to focus on the incredible craftsmanship instead of what was inside.

I fail. I lift the chalice as Aro did, and, damn me, I drew in a long, deep breath.

Just the scent of the fresh, warm human blood lit up my body. I felt my limbs warm, the colors around me become vibrant, the details sharper. I wanted to feel that all through me. To take it in."

"Wow." I whisper. "Does it ever fade?"

"Never." Aro smiles. I became acutely aware I was talking to someone who had been alive when The Romans marched across Europe. Who had seen over a thousand years pass before the time of Christ. "The blood is with us forever."

I was trembling faintly, I felt a smile flicker to my lips at the time I had spread before me. What things would I see? Would this ancient town be eroded down to so much sand and I would be standing upon it. Would I see the sun blaze away its fuel and die? Would I travel among the stars then?

Aro was right. I was no longer a pawn.

I was a Queen.

I raised my golden cup to my lips.

And I drank.


	32. Sangreal

Chapter 31

Sangreal

"The power…" I whispered as the blood diffused into me. "It's so… ohhhhh"

"Magnificio" Aro said, his voice a whisper. "Look at you! You burn so brightly Buffy. A truly rare thing among our kind."

"The taste... so… " I said, unable to find a word so exquisite to describe it.

Aro grinned with knowing. He gestured to the woman attending us.

She then brought over an ornate gold pitcher, shaped like a mermaid, from which she slowly poured a long, hot stream of liquid into my cup.

I drew in a long breath, savoring the delicious aroma, not just of what was set before me, but of the woman.

She bowed to me and stepped back, taking up her station in four elegant strides. I watched her keenly, the swell of her buttocks as they tensed under the tight white fabric arousing me even further.

"What would you say, if I was to offer you a place here? Among The Volturi? Perhaps a member of our elite guard? You prevented one war, single handedly, after all."

"Aro, you are too kind. But, I think Jane would have a few things to say about that. We didn't exactly get off on the right foot. I mean… my right foot was heavily involved, but…"

"Jane respects power. And you have power, Buffy. Such power." Aro said, gesturing to the woman in white to serve him, "I am sure she would come around."

"This… invitation- is it one of those non-optional kinda deals?"

"Not at all. As an immortal, you have the absolute right to spend your eternity however you so wish. With the proviso, of course, that you do not break what few laws we have. That freedom is a cornerstone of our society, and one I hold the deepest sanctity for."

"So I could just, leave?"

"If that is what you desire."

I glanced up again at the beautiful young woman. I would place her at around 20 years old, thin yet athletic. She noticed me watching her and averted her eyes downwards. I could feel her heartbeat pick up.

"You would of course, be provided with a house that befits your status, would never want for money and of course… servants."

So, he had noticed me watching her. A wicked little smile crossed my lips. I was a free woman. A powerful woman. I could stare at a mere human if I liked.

"She is charming, is she not?"

"Mouthwateringly." I confess.

"Would it amuse you to know she was once trained as a slayer potential?"

I had never met one before, and looking now, there was something familiar about the girl. Her posture, her build, athletic, graceful, strong. And perhaps I was imagining it, but when her blue eyes met mine, all but briefly before she once again cast them downwards, I could see and all too familiar fire within. Yes, I could see the girl take up my mantle. And as I stared at her, I could see something else.

"She is one of Diana's younger sisters, isn't she?"

"Most observant." Aro said steepling his fingers.

My fingers traced the fine engravings along the golden base. I could smell the heady aroma coming from my cup. I thought of how full my cup would always be here, in Volterra

"Your offer is... tempting."

Aro' smile fell away as Jane approached us. As she crossed behind him, she glared at me coldly before leaning in to whisper something into his ear. Her lips barely moved, and even with my greatly enhanced senses, I could not make out what was being said. Aro sighed.

"That is most disappointing to hear. Send your brother to find her. Bring her back if at all possible." Aro told her.

Jane nodded and looked back at me. This time, her lip was curved up in a wolfish grin. She slinked away into the garden.

I lifted the chalice to my lips, losing myself once again to that ultimate flavor. I drank slowly this time, savoring every blessed moment. I drank it to the last drop.

"Well Buffy, the offer is on the table. You just have to decide what you want. "

"I want…" I said, gazing down at the empty chalice, my voice weak and trembling.

"I want…"

"Karin" Aro says, gesturing for the girl to come over. A wicked smile crawled over Aro's handsome features. Of course he knew what I wanted. Because we are the same.

"Karin here has served me for, what is it? Close to three years now. Isn't that right Karin?"

"Yes, my lord." She said.

"Do serve the lady." He said. She filled my cup once more.

But as I eagerly reached to take it, she cried out, dropping to her knees beside me.

The pitcher clattered down at my feet, the precious contents spilling across the floor.

Aro tightened his grip on the back of her hair, twisting her head to bare her naked throat to me.

In an instant I could feel my fangs pressing hard against my lips, the ache in me was building, hot and needful.

"Karin, what is it that you want?"

"To… be... immortal." She hissed through her gritted teeth.

"And what are you willing to do for such a precious gift?"

"Anything… everything." She growled.

Watching the girl threw into sharp focus what I had just done. When I drank, I was complicit in someone's murder. A human being. A person.

And the worst part? That part of me that should care, that part seemed to be silent, or perhaps held hostage by the darker part of me. By the desire for the blood.

Oh, how much I needed it.

I should care. I needed to care. I used to care. Was this what Merrick had meant by losing one's soul?

Was I really still Buffy? Or was I a demon, that just imagined I was Buffy? Was the real Buffy dead? Was I an evil passenger slinking around in dead girl's corpse?

Did I even care?

"Show the lady." Aro says. Releasing her.

The woman looked at me then, her deep breaths heaving her full breasts, her large blue eyes were wild. She crawled closer to me, on all fours, through the pool of blood at my feet.

To my excitement, she slowly turned and slid herself onto my lap.

The heat of her body upon mind was near unbearable, the rapid beat of her heart loud in my ears. I felt my hands upon her, sliding to draw her to me as she leaned back against me. Her eyes fluttered shut as she exposed her throat to me.

"My lady." She says with a trembling whisper. Her fear added to her aroma, spicy notes, chocolatey, delicate hints of rosewater, moreish. So inviting. And so freely given.

I couldn't speak, my mouth was trembling so, I could feel not just my fangs, but all my teeth growing, sharpening to points against my tongue, the venom in my mouth thickly dripping down.

"Karin wishes to be immortal. To be one of us." Aro said, his finger idly drawing circles on the table. "And she has served The Volturi well."

"I am most curious, what would happen if an immortal who was called as The Slayer, gifted immortality to a Slayer Potential? Are you not curious, Karin?"

"I… yes my lord."

"Well Buffy, are you not… curious?"

Karin was trembling not just from fear, I realised, but from being on the very brink of having her dreams made reality. She worked for this. She wanted this. She wanted me to do it.

And I wanted her blood.

Aro was watching keenly the game he had arranged for us. He knew the need in mean was building to a frenzy. I was a newborn, a fledgeling- I couldn't possibly have the will to stop. Karin was bait, a test, a lure, a reward, a bribe… all these things to me. Did he know or suspect I had been turned by a Cullen? Was this to soil my noble goal to be like them?

I could drain the girl, tear her tender throat to pieces and draw her entire life force into me to quench my agonizing desire- and that would be voyeuristic entertainment to him. Karin meant nothing to him but a fleeting moment of entertainment in an endless expanse of time.

But to me, she would define everything I am.

I shuddered, my mouth close to her, I saw a drop of saliva, honey thick with venom, drop upon her delectable throat.

With a deep growl, I bit down deeply into her.

As she groaned, my mouth filled with her. Instinctively I suckled, drawing her inside, thick and hot.

She spasmed hard against me, her moan of ecstasy choked and bubbling. Her fingers pawed helplessly at my flesh. I sank my teeth deeper still, wanting more and more. Because there was plenty more within her.

I could hear Aro laughing.

"Buffy, wait! stop!" A voice screamed at me, Alice's voice.

_Alice_.

_Alice_?

Alice!

I drew back, my chair crashing to the floor as I pushed myself from the girl I had just... I had just… what had I done?

I staggered back, looking down on the scene of horror before me. The ancient fresco of marble was now covered in a pool of blood, and a young girl lay thrashing in it, her white suit soaked in gore, her throat torn to shreds, convulsing and silently screaming as my venom coursed within her.

The table and chairs now upended and broken about, Aro sat on the last remaining chair like it was a throne. He was enthusiastically clapping.

"Bravo! Sei una meraviglia!"

I stepped back, and wanted to run but my body was frozen.

I had murdered a woman.

It took me a moment to become aware I was being held. Alice had me, holding me to her, cooing into my ear, stroking my hair. She was really here with me!

"I… Alice… I couldn't… I couldn't…" I said, gasping for air. But if course I felt nothing as I breathed, no soothing from it, because that was a gift for the living. Not for the dead. Not for monsters like I.

"I know. I know. Buffy, it's over. It's over now." She drew me to her breast, holding me to her wrapping her arms around me protectively.

"What have I done?" I whispered through lips dripping with blood.

"Fought back." She whispered into my ear. "You stopped."

"Alice. Oh god, Alice."

"Aro, I have come to claim my childe, and mate, to return with her to my coven. As is my right and duty." Alice said.

"Ahh, Buffy's mystery Sire. You continue to impress, Alice Cullen. I had thought it to be Carlisle who had the will and motive. After all, Buffy was found in Forks, and Edward and his mate where here. But this? This is splendid indeed."

"I will take her now. We have a flight to catch, and she needs time to wash and change."

"We can arrange another flight. Why not stay? The both of you. You are still very welcome here. And my previous offer still stands Alice. Why don't you stay. Enjoy your… honeymoon in Volterra?"

"Aro, you know my gift. So when I say it is best for everyone if I politely decline, would you take my word?"

"Perhaps… you could show me" he approached us, extending a hand towards her.

I could sense the guard where slowly edging toward us, closing in about. I had to pull myself together. For Alice. For myself.

"I politely decline." She said

"Perhaps, in the given circumstances you may like to reconsider. After all, you broke the law in turning Buffy on Volterra soil without our permission. Your brother had better manners."

"Then I shall plead my case before the tribunal. I don't see Caius or Marcus here, Aro. But I do see the future. So, I am pretty confident when I say, once more, it is the best for us all, most of all yourself, if you let me take Buffy."

"Such a pity, Alice. I had so hoped for you and Buffy to be on the right side of what is to come."

"We are, Aro."

"Well, I suppose this hasn't been a total loss." He looked down to the corpse of Karin Cronquist. "I do look forward to seeing just how your granddaughter turns out."

Alice backed us away, the Volturi Guard circling us. Stalking us through the vegetation, the strange darkness concealing their numbers.

I felt my body readying for combat, the shift of time, the throb of power. I knew whatever happened now, it wouldn't matter if I unleashed myself fully upon them. If I was a monster, I would show them how monstrous I could be.

But Aro gestured to them, and they stopped still. Jane took a single step forward, her growl low and deep in her chest, but Aro silenced her with a glance. Then, his charming host persona was back.

"Do give my regards to Carlisle and Esme, little Alice. Tell them I do so look forward to their company sometime in the future."

Alice and I escaped back through the tunnels through which I arrived. I felt immense relief coming off her in waves as we reached the streets.

I myself was vibrating with rage, much of it aimed at myself. My own, sick, murderous self.

When I had fled to Forks, it was to escape my downward spiral into insanity. When I left Forks, it was because I realized that it was not I, but my life that was insane. When, I had given up my life, it was to escape into the insanity of obsession.

I realised now that I never truly escaped anything- regardless of what truths I found along the way, my downward spiral into insanity had never stopped

I look at the blood upon my hands, my mouth, my feet, and feel the death hunger still, and I see that there was only ever one delusional world waiting for me.

The one I chose.

What was in the cup from which I so freely drank, was someone's life. A someone. A person. Someone who had once loved and laughed. Someone who once had a mother and a father. Someone who will dearly missed. Out there, others will cry from missing them.

I chose to ignore all that. I chose delusion.

And it had made me a murderer.

"Buffy, listen to me, It's okay, I will take you home."

"How can it ever be okay?" I laughed darkly into her shoulder.

"Because, my love, I can see the future." She said, and kissed me.


	33. Water Falling

Chapter 32

Water Falling

I was in a daze as Alice led me back through the rooftops to the apartment.

I dreaded seeing Diana, but, I guess in a way, I also craved it. I wanted her to scream at me, to hit me, to punish me for what I had let myself do. If only so I could feel something. So that there could be some repercussion to my actions.

I remember how Diana said we were both monsters now and I tried to tell her she was wrong. But I was defending the wrong person. She was right. I _was_ a monster. She was just the hero who lost her way, and only because she loved her sister.

I could still taste her.

Alice touched the air of the balcony threshold and slowly pushed through with what appeared to be only a slight resistance.

"She isn't here Buffy. It's abandoned." she said, entering Diana's room. "She must have fled."

I nodded vaguely at this, my mind felt disconnected. Alice looked at me and understood. She took my hand and led me to the bathroom and lifted me so I was standing in the bathtub.

I watched Alice, her jaw tense from concentration, as she stripped away my sticky, blood caked clothes and threw them far from her. I was naked now. Alice guided me down to a sitting position, turned on the taps, and proceeded to shower me down, working the blood from me with her free hand.

"Are you ashamed of me?" I said, my voice small and quiet.

"No." she said, working the soap roughly over my filthy flesh.

"You stopped when I called you. No other newborn could have done that."

"Even you?"

Alice said nothing as her gentle hands washed the blood from my face. I watched her tongue wet her lip as she did so.

"How many?"

"It was a very, very long time ago. I barely remember."

"How can we do this?"

"What?"

"Let ourselves live."

"That's the great question isn't it?" She said softly. "Maybe you should think about it this way. Who are you going to be now, Buffy?

"What are you going to do with forever? What will you choose? All that time and money and strength and… love?

"What good can you do with all that? Because you have only just begun a very, very long journey."

Her fingers slid through my hair, and I watched the stream of pink water slowly turning clear.

"Will he really let us go? Aro?"

"For now. He craves our gifts and the power we can gain for him. He is patient. Three thousand years of practice will do that to you, I imagine. I suspect he will make a play for us again. For now, it's over.

"Now stand up, towel off, I will go pick you out an outfit, we still have time to make the flight."

I do so, rather numbly, running over the events of the day silently. But, eventually I joined Alice in my room. She had my clothes arranged ready for me on the bed next to my passport.

I slipped on the clothes without speaking. As far as I could see, Alice had my suitcase packed lightly, only one change of clothes, a wash kit and Mr. Gordo. I notices the rest of my wardrobe balled up and tossed in a corner. I looked at the pile.

"Don't you dare, missy. I am taking you shopping for a whole new wardrobe when we get back." she said brightly, turning her beautiful eyes upon me with a mischievous little smile. "Think Mr. Gordo will be comfy in check in baggage?"

"You know my stuffed pigs name?" I asked. Then threw my hands up. "Of course you do"

My lover probably knew me better than anyone, having watched me from afar in her visions, even before I was born. Rather than creep me out, I found it horribly romantic for some reason, and smiled at the thought of having forever to learn about her in return.

What are you going to do with forever?

"Is there anything you need from the rest of the house?" she said.

"I don't know, gonna check." I pecked her cheek and walked down the stairs.

Diana had destroyed the kitchen in her rage. A bowl of soup smashed on the floor with untouched buttered toast appeared to be where the tantrum started. I pictured her staring blankly at the food she had just made before emotion it took her over.

I picked up my favourite stake from the rack, a beautiful carved redwood. I was once The Slayer. But my watch was over. I was done.

Somewhere, a Boston girl was finding her powers, revelling in the superhuman strength and speed the she now had access to. Somewhere, out there, a Watcher was lying to her.

I placed the stake back down onto the rack. There was nothing for me here now.

It was then I saw it, scrawled on the wall in thick black letters. A final message from Diana.

**_I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL_**

Alice slid her arms around my hips from behind and placed a kiss on my shoulder

"Take me home" I said.

…

I had never flown first class before. My eyes bugged out when I discovered Edward had booked the entire section of the airplane. It made perfect sense, of course, his mate and I would have been tortured by the scent of any other passengers. It wasn't a show of excess, it was a consideration of safety.

As we flew, I was acutely aware of the drone of the engines and the vibrations through the hull, but it was like white noise, soothing rather than grating. I watched silently as Italy rolled away from us.

As the sun began to rise, Edward closed the blinds. Both Jessica and I found the light searing. It took twenty minutes for my migraine to fade.

"It's effect on you will lessen as your diet changes. Direct sunlight will never be pleasant, but it won't harm you."

Jessica was currently coiled up on Edward, purring softly to herself. Occasionally they whispered to each other. I could see I had missed the beginnings of a great romance.

I was about to ask Jessica what had happened in the months I was gone, but Edward met my gaze and gave a cautioning little shake of his head. I sensed she had gone through something traumatic, and dropped it. Whatever it was, it was a conversation for later

There was something about Jessica's laugh sounded magical. Something powerful in it's angelic beauty. It made me wonder if she too had a gift.

"She does." Edward said.

"What?"

"I must apologise Buffy, I should have said earlier. Since you arrived I can hear you. It's really faint. You were wondering if Jessica has a gift. She does. We are not entirely sure yet, but it seems linked to her voice."

"Oh that is just wiggy. How do you deal with that?" I asked my mate. She grinned that impish little smile that melted my heart.

"Hey, language, Alice." he grinned. "Oh, believe me Buffy, she is just as annoying. You have no idea what you have signed up for."

Well, he was wrong about that.

"Maybe. We'll see." He said. Ooooh, way too wiggy. Jessica opened her eyes and placed a playful bite on Edwards shoulder.

"This is weird" she said, "I feel like I could just curl up and go to sleep right here in a happy little fluffy ball of undead joy, but..." Jessica shrugged a shoulder. "It's kind of like that time Mike dared me to do that espresso with all the caffeine pills in it. This is gonna take some getting used to."

Alice was sitting across from me. It was far too far away, so leaned forward, took her hand and pulled her onto my lap.

She chuckled and nestled in, mewling contentedly against me.

"I mean, no sleep. No dreams. Just one big endless awake."

"Huh. No more nightmares." I said, tipping my head to the side. Alice nuzzled into my neck and I felt the low thrum of her purring against me. "I… huh. I guess no more prophetic dreams either.

"Don't worry, you have me for that now." Alice said softly. "And I see very, very nice things are going to happen when we get back." She slid her fingers into my blouse, caressing the flesh just above my breast. "Oh, and, Edward, I am calling dibs on the cabin. You two can go to the island."

"Island?" Jessica said. "You have an island?"

"Well, technically Esme does." Edward grins. "Just off the coast of Rio de Janeiro".

"Let's just say a combination of compound interest and a foreseer sister who likes to play the stock markets? We don't have to worry about finances."

"Speaking of which, brother dearest, don't forget you owe me that Porche." she said, her voice muffled in my chest. Edward chuckled. " Turbo 911. Yellow please."

"We landed rich hotties Buffy." Jessica chuckled.

"Yeah, aren't they just to die for?" I said.

…

The rain was waiting to welcome me back to Forks, of course. It fell for the entire drive from Port Angeles.

Yet, through my new eyes, the rain was transformed utterly; a shimmering spectacle of rainbow colors as the morning light refracted through each and every droplet.

The forest had also transformed in my absence. It now took on an infinitely more complex and beautiful aspect. The rich explosion of life in myriad green hues, the fractal details all crisp and clear.

I saw it all as we drove, the little creatures within, I saw spiders shaken on their webs by raindrops filtering down from the foliage, the timid eyes of rodents taking shelter, and deer hiding within the tapestry of ferns and creepers.

I gasped in wonder, and Jessica joined me. My new sister's hand slipped into mine and squeezed excitedly as we discovered our birthplace anew. It was clear to me why the Cullens returned to Forks again and again throughout history.

I caught Edward smiling at Jessica as he shared her inner experience.

…

Alice had driven at insane speeds all the way, of course, but it seemed an easy pace to me now. I was going to be a menace on the roads, I could tell.

We arrived at The Cullen Estate a little after seven in the morning.

Ever the gentleman, Edward opened the door for Jessica and offered her a hand. She flipped me a wink and then played her part, taking his hand like a noblewoman.

Stepping out into the rain was a changed experience for me too. It wasn't cold or unpleasant, it felt warm and the scent pleasing, cleansing. I felt no need to flinch or draw my collar about my neck.

Alice was waiting for me, a little smile on her beautiful lips. Her short black hair spikey and sparkling in the rain. We were immune to it, she and I. In nature but beyond it. Her pale hand held towards me.

"Buffy, are you ready?" She said.

I smiled and took her hand.


	34. Epilogue (05-25 20:21:07)

Epilogue

The girl sat in the diner booth clutching the coffee for warmth more than anything. She didn't notice the single trickle of blood as it slowly worked down her dirt smeared face.

Outside the snow fell, looking like so much ash in the passing headlights from the motorway.

She was dimly aware of the throb of her broken toes and ribs as they slowly knit back together beneath her purple battered flesh. She knew from grim experience it would only get worse before it got better; she just had to get through the next two hours before she could walk out of here.

But what then? Where could she go now?

Her head jerked up as the woman sat across from her and placed a basket piled high with chicken wings down.

"These are for you. Trust me. You'll feel better once you have eaten."

"The fuck you know what I need lady."

"You just witnessed your watcher tortured, torn to pieces and devoured by vampires. You fought long and hard, and now your body is swimming with all these sensations you can't untangle- hate, rage, lust, hunger, guilt. How am I doing?"

The girl stared, many of those emotions played across her face.

"Trust me, eat, it will help." the woman flipped through the menu. "And once you have finished these, we'll get you something more substantial, then find you somewhere warm and safe to clean up and rest."

"You a Watcher?"

"Better. I am a do-er. So eat up, and tomorrow, if you want, I can take you somewhere they cannot find you and teach you everything you need to know."

"Oh? And what is it 'I need to know' exactly?" the girl said menacingly.

"How to stop pissing around under the thumb of The Watchers Council, to get out there and actually destroy every last motherfucking vampire on this godforsaken planet."

Diana lowered the menu and gave the girl a wicked little grin.

"Am I coming through loud and clear?"

"Yeah." the girl smiled. "Five by five."

...

The Summers' Twilight Saga continues shortly in Book II: **Summers' Moon.**


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